Nightmare
by NeuroticNerd
Summary: Harry has given up. There is no hope of getting out of Voldemort's grip, and there is no end to the nightmares and the terrible memories. He now considers himself on Voldemort's side because the Dark Lord is right, isn't he? There's no escape. SS/HP
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Hey, so this is a really angsty fic with some torturing and killing of innocents, you know, just what Voldemort likes. It will be a Harry/Snape, but not till some later chapters. Hope you'll like it! Oh right, I'd like to thank my beta nikavera, (check out her stories, they're good!) and well, I don't own Harry Potter and all that, I make no profit etc...

Chapter One

Harry moved quietly through the muggles' house, only the slight glow of his wand illuminating his path. He was quick. The sleeping muggles never even noticed he was there. He performed a quick spell, located the weapons in the house (there were hardly any) and grabbed them. His eyes swept quickly over the photographs in the living room, before he left. There were mostly pictures of two small boys, on the most recent photos maybe 6 and 12 years old. Harry performed another spell and confirmed that the children weren't there, only the couple asleep on the top floor.

The night air was cold, but not uncomfortably so and Harry was only slightly chilly as he patiently walked down the bush lined path to the road. He looked out over the calm, empty street before he pushed up his left sleeve and revealed his Dark Mark. It stood out against his pale skin like an ink smudge on a white piece of paper. Or like a blood stain. He carefully pushed his wand against it and waited for them to arrive.

They were fast, Harry only had to wait a few seconds for the first ones to appear with a small 'pop'. They had apparently been waiting eagerly for the night's work. He didn't see their faces under their hoods, but he recognised all of them anyway. He kept his head down until they'd all walked past him in to the yard and then he put up the barriers with a flick of his wand, so that no nosy muggles would hear the screams and come running or call the police. That would be an unwelcome annoyance and Harry was not in the mood for that tonight, even if some of his fellow Death Eaters would revel in the idea of killing more muggles.

Harry took his time walking up to the house and when he reached the door, someone had already woken the muggle couple up and put a body binding spell on the man. He'd apparently fought quite a bit as they'd brought him downstairs. He was still fighting, or trying to, managing only to flail around slightly on the floor.

The woman, who had a mousy look to her with dark blonde hair and pale eyes, was quietly crying and watching her husband with a terrified look on her face.

They seemed harmless enough, but the Dark Lord had somehow found them threatening, Harry reasoned, so threatening that he'd sent Harry to get rid of them. Harry gave a sign to the others to proceed and then leaned back against the wall, watching.

The woman screamed when the first curse hit her husband, confusion and terror mixing in her face, too shocked to even cry anymore. After her cries and pleas got too annoying someone cast Avada Kedavra and she fell to the floor with a muted 'thump'.

They worked the man longer, making him whimper and beg at their knees when they got tired of casting Crucio. He begged to be released, for them to stop, and at the end he begged for them to kill him. Eventually they did.

They were fast and thorough at straightening up the house, Harry made sure of it. They left the bodies where they were, and closed the door after them, leaving the glowing Dark Mark in the sky as the only evidence of their presence.

/

"We were successful, my Lord", Lucius said quietly, bowing so low that his nose was almost touching the hem of Voldemort's robe. Harry let him talk to Voldemort even though Harry had been the one leading them. He was always so eager to prove himself after his stay in Azkaban that Harry sometimes let him take credit for his work. It wasn't like the Dark Lord didn't know it was actually Harry who'd done all the work. The Dark Lord knew everything.

The Dark Lord watched with mild interest as they bowed before him one by one before he called for Harry.

Harry walked past the others and their envious glares and then bowed before his Lord as well. The cloaked men and women looked at Harry as if they were jealous school children and Harry was the teacher's pet.

"Yes, my Lord?" Harry asked quietly and Voldemort smiled.

"_Did it go well?" _he continued in parseltongue and the Death Eaters grew eerily quiet, listening in on this private conversation trying to understand and failing, hating Harry for this special favouritism.

"_Yes_", Harry answered, hissing quietly. "_They were only muggles, they were easy to handle."_

Voldemort looked pleased, as pleased as he could get, and then bent down from his throne-like chair and kissed Harry's forehead, on the left of the scar. Harry didn't have to ignore the pain of having him so close, he barely felt it anymore. He thought of himself as immune now.

"_Thank you, my Lord_", Harry said and Voldemort motioned for him to sit down by his side.

Harry conjured a chair and there was another 'pop' as a late arriver apparated into the middle of the room. It was Snape, Harry noticed as he sat down, getting his face to form a neutral expression. Snape always reminded him of the scribble of pencils, potion fumes, crowded classrooms and, especially, Hogwarts. Harry didn't want to remember that. It hurt to remember that.

Snape arrived in his mask, and the Dark Lord first ordered him to take it off. He liked to look at the people he was speaking to, it was easier to observe their behaviour then, easier to know if they were lying or not, and the Dark Lord was always looking for liars.

"Severus", he said, and Harry looked at him. He was pale, as usual, with that greasy hair hanging down in drapes, framing his face. The sneer that Harry used to see so often in class was gone, instead there was a carefully passive look. He glanced quickly at Harry, before he stood up, his eyes then back to the Dark Lord. He did that sometimes, glanced in a way that was barely noticeable, and it annoyed Harry to death that he couldn't recognise what he saw in his eyes when he did that.

"Forgive me for being late, my Lord, but Albus detained me and..." Voldemort made a gesture with his hand and he fell silent, bowing once more.

"_He may be lying",_ the Dark Lord turned to Harry and hissed, his eyes never leaving Snape. Snape's dark eyes looked at Harry with just a little hint of nervousness in them. _"He is hiding something from me, I can feel it. I can see it."_

"_You are a very skilled Legilimens, my Lord"_, Harry reminded, but still eyed Snape carefully.

"_There are thoughts of his that I cannot access. Thoughts that are... Clouded, dark. Thoughts that he guards very carefully", _Voldemort said and Harry could see a flash of panic in Snape's eyes, panic from knowing that they were talking about him but not knowing what they were saying.

In the end Voldemort just dismissed him with a flick of his hand and Snape mumbled one last, "Forgive me", before he joined the mass of the Dark Lord's followers.

Harry was dismissed last of them all and when he finally went to sleep he was exhausted.

**A/N: **If you're super confused right now... Well, you'll understand after a few chapters. Review if you liked! New chapter will come some time next week. =)


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: So, chapter two! Hope you like it, and review if you do!

Chapter Two

Harry didn't know where they were. He knew it was in the forest and that they were surrounded by miles and miles of trees, but that was pretty much all he knew. There were no traffic heard, but that could have been silencing spells. There were no birds or animals either, just silence and tall, dark trees.

The house was old, abandoned and just barely kept up by enforcement spells. Harry's room had a big crack in the ceiling, and sometimes he found himself worrying about whether it was going to fall down on him as he slept.

The room was big, but the wallpaper was yellowed and stained, the floors hadn't been cleaned in a very long time and it was just generally unpleasant.

There was a big mirror on one wall and several times Harry had found himself staring at the reflection in it. He hadn't seen himself in a mirror since... The last time was two years ago, he hadn't seen himself in the mirror since he was fourteen. He didn't recognise the young man in the mirror and he flat out refused to believe that that little scrawny fourteen year old had grown into that.

The boy in the mirror was pale and thin, but maybe handsome if you looked closely. He had Harry's messy hair, although a bit longer, making it fall into his eyes, making him look brooding and troubled. He had Harry's green eyes, and Harry's face even though his jaw looked more like a man's and he had dark circles under his eyes. He was still wearing his old glasses and of course the scar was still there, the only thing that made Harry hesitantly aware that the stranger in the mirror was him.

Now he was walking around with the vague feeling that he wasn't really himself. In a way that was true, because if he still saw himself as that fourteen year old, he wasn't himself. He wasn't fourteen years old anymore and he certainly wasn't the same person as he'd been then. And there his looks were the smallest difference.

Harry deliberately ignored the mirror this time when he got out of bed, and just walked past it, making his way to the bathroom and a hot shower. At least the house had working pipes.

He had a lesson after he'd had breakfast. Voldemort had assigned Death Eaters to teach him, mostly dark spells, but also some wizarding history and other general knowledge.

Voldemort was proud of the magic community's accomplishments, and he often had Harry learning about warfare and tactics used by other wizards, both light and dark. He spoke with Harry afterwards, asked about Harry's view on it and then he explained what the losing witches and wizards had done wrong, why they were weak, and then he explained why he was stronger than them, why he would succeed and come out the winner of this war.

Harry listened. He learned. He wasn't sure how he felt about it but his opinions didn't matter, his opinions wouldn't be written down. He was not the one people would be talking about years, decades later, Voldemort would be the one mentioned in history books. Not Harry, and he found that to be quite relieving.

This lesson was by Lucius Malfoy, and all Harry could think about when he saw the man's blonde hair was his son. He would be sixteen now, just like Harry, and Harry wondered if he would recognise Draco if he saw him, or if he'd changed as much as Harry. The younger Malfoy was starting his seventh year at Hogwarts in the fall. He hadn't started attending Death Eater meetings yet, but soon, Voldemort had promised, soon he would summon him and Lucius had swelled with pride.

Harry liked Lucius as a teacher, he was straight to the point and didn't take advantage of the situation by hitting Harry with a stinging curse 'by mistake' as revenge for Voldemort's special treatment of him, as the other Death Eaters often did. Harry sometimes tentatively used the little Legilimency his Lord had taught him to prod around slightly in Lucius' head. In his head he often compared Harry to Draco and was always slightly proud when Harry mastered a new spell or memorised some fact.

He learned by looking at Lucius' memories that Draco had asked about Harry several times, how many, Harry couldn't tell. Harry almost smiled when he thought about Draco, how naively he'd thought that the blonde was the worst enemy he'd ever had, that the boy was evil. There were much more evil things and persons in the world than Draco Malfoy, he knew that now.

Harry was summoned by Voldemort after his lesson and when he walked in to the dining room Voldemort used as a meeting room, he found Snape there too. The man seemed surprised that Harry was there, so he assumed that Voldemort hadn't told him he was coming. They talked about the lesson and since Voldemort didn't tell Snape to leave he sat and looked between them as they hissed at each other.

The dining room was more like a hall and the Death Eaters had stripped it of everything but the big oval table and the dirty paintings on the walls, making it feel bigger than it was. Voldemort sat with his back against the only source of light, the fireplace, and Snape sat on his right and Harry on his left.

"_My Lord"_, Harry ended and looked over at Snape who in turn snapped his eyes down to the table, "_Is... What is this meeting about?"_

"_Severus",_ Snape snapped his eyes up at the Dark Lord as he heard his name, _"and I were discussing business."_

Harry understood that he shouldn't ask any more questions, he shouldn't have asked about it in the first place. If the Dark Lord wanted you to know something he told you.

Harry bowed his head slightly in submission and Voldemort smiled and reached out his pale hand lovingly. Harry kissed the top of it, the knuckles, and then he pressed his cheek against the cold palm. Voldemort cupped his cheek slightly, only for a second and then withdrew his hand. No one had touched Harry in so long, there were only these rare moments when Voldemort felt like being generous, there was only that pale, cold skin of his Lord.

Harry realised he'd closed his eyes and when he opened them again he looked up into Snape's black pools of eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Hey! So, chapter three! Also some torturing and stuff (this fic is packed with it), but it's in dreamverse, so…

Chapter Three

Cedric screamed in agony and his back arched off the ground as he spasmed from the torture spell.

"No! No, please!" Harry begged. "No!"

Voldemort laughed icily and released Cedric from the spell. He gasped and then coughed, crying silently.

Harry fought against the ties holding him against the headstone but it was useless. Voldemort was walking towards Cedric now and he tried to crawl away in panic, but to no use. His feet kicked at the wet soil frantically and his hand reached for his wand, but it wasn't there, they'd taken it away from him almost as soon as they had appeared in the cemetery, falling away from the Triwizard Cup.

"Crucio", Voldemort called out and he seemed to enjoy saying it after such a long time, seemed to enjoy the power it gave him. He smiled down at the Hufflepuff and mumbled something, but Harry couldn't hear it over the screams.

"Would you like me to kill him, Harry?" Voldemort asked and looked at Harry with glowing eyes. "Like your poor parents? Do you want him to beg for mercy like they did?"

"No..." Harry whined and realised he was crying too. "Please, don't! I'll do anything! Just... Let him go!" Harry ended loudly as Voldemort pushed Cedric's face down into the muddy grass with his foot.

"_Anything_?" Voldemort asked quietly, his red eyes looking up at Harry, before turning back to Cedric...

And then Harry woke up, the memory of those red eyes etched into his mind.

Just a dream. An old memory. Harry shook his head and sat up, finding himself face to face with the huge mirror in his room, face to face with that stranger again. He stared at him in terror and then he remembered that it was actually him in the mirror. His hair was even more tousled than usually and he was sweating and breathing harshly. He must have been really fighting in his sleep.

He kept staring at himself in the mirror, at his pale hairless chest with the scars, to his arm with the Dark Mark. The snake in the tattoo slithered around as if it was saying good morning, as if it was happy to see him, and Harry felt nauseous.

It was dawn outside, a dim light spreading through the branches of the thick forest. Harry's eyes swept quickly over the gravelly yard out front, to the sleepy guards at the gate, probably at the end of their shift. They were there to guard the house, to keep unwanted people from getting in and wanted people from getting out. Harry was of course one of the wanted people. But now the guards were pretty useless, he'd had many chances at escaping, and he hadn't taken any, and he knew he wouldn't. By the time he was trusted enough to leave the house he knew that escape was no option. He knew he'd never get away with it, he knew that the Dark Lord was too powerful, it had been drilled into him for months, the force of the message strengthened by Crucio after Crucio. If Harry ran they would catch him and the punishment for that... Harry didn't even want to imagine the punishment for that.

Harry turned to face himself in the mirror and then nodded to the boy there, pulling on a shirt and releasing a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding when the shirt covered his Dark Mark.

/

Malfoy appeared one meeting with his father as one of the earlier ones. Harry was standing next to Voldemort's chair at the end of the oval table in the dining room, talking quietly with him. Malfoy, the younger, seemed incredibly nervous, but held it together nicely. The only thing that gave him away was his hands, that trembled as they fiddled around with the hem of his robes, with his wand, with anything he could get his hands on. He'd grown up quite a bit, he looked even more like his father now. Strong, pale features with high cheekbones, together with blonde, almost white hair, made the both of them look like elegant ghosts.

"Lucius. And welcome, Draco", Voldemort said and the name sounded natural on his lips, not at all strange and out of place as Harry would have thought it would sound. Malfoy bowed comically low, and some of the older Death Eaters stifled sniggers. Harry didn't, he eyed the blonde from his place next to the Dark Lord.

When Malfoy noticed Harry (he'd been so nervous that he'd only had eyes for Voldemort, he hadn't noticed Harry until well into the meeting) his eyes got wide and Harry couldn't help but smile a bit.

He couldn't help but to be curious so he cast a silent 'Legilimens', and his head was full of Malfoy's memories. It was hard to find anything he'd find interesting, Malfoy was mostly focused on Voldemort and remembered his father's instructions on how to act, but in the end he found what he was looking for. His head flooded with red hair, familiar names, Ginny, Fred and George, Ron... He saw Malfoy shooting insults at them, felt the small pang of guilt Draco felt as he could smell Hermione's wonderful smell as she walked past, her hair almost brushing his face. And then there were lots of memories of Hermione, harassing her in class and then looking at her in secret as she read in the library or studied. Harry searched for recent memories and found a few, mostly of Hermione (apparently that crush hadn't passed), some of Ron, Neville, Dean, Seamus, Cedr...

Harry broke eye contact by lowering his head, but the memory of Cedric was still stuck in his head. He was nineteen now, but still he hadn't changed much. He'd already had his growth spurt when Harry had seen him last time.

In the memory he'd been in a pub, somewhere that Harry vaguely recognised, maybe the Leaking Cauldron, but it was hard to tell. His memory of earlier so familiar places had faded into the distant, replaced by more recent, more vivid, more horrible memories.

Cedric had been laughing, Harry was glad about that, but he still felt that pang of anger, of feeling that this deal, this exchange wasn't fair. Cedric was out there, laughing, and Harry was here. The lie that he sometimes told himself to get the feeling of slowly suffocating to disappear, the lie that 'I can leave anytime' didn't work this time, wouldn't stick, and Harry found himself leaning away from Voldemort in silence as he punished and praised his followers as he pleased.

He shouldn't have looked into Malfoy's head in the first place. He was here now, not with Cedric Diggory or Hermione and Ron, he wasn't laughing and that's the way it was. He'd made his choice. Rather Cedric alive and him here than them both dead. Yes. It did no good to wonder how things would have been if that fourteen year old had chosen differently that night at the cemetery.

A hiss of 'Crucio!' interrupted Harry's thoughts and Harry was grateful for it. He watched as Snape writhed on the ground, not a sound escaping from his lips. He never did utter a single word when Voldemort tortured him, and Harry admired the man for it. It was like a silent protest and it was part of the reason why Voldemort didn't quite trust him. Harry also noticed how it egged the Dark Lord on, he tried harder to get him to scream, kept the spells on him longer. Snape was foolish for doing it, really, his punishments would be much shorter if he gave in and gave the Dark Lord that agonised scream he wanted.

Voldemort ended the spell after an excruciatingly long time and left Snape gasping on the floor as he dismissed the rest of the Death Eaters. He looked at Snape, still lying on the floor, breathing harshly as if it had taken all his strength to remain silent during his punishment.

"Severus. I am very disappointed", Voldemort said in a chilling voice and then turned to Harry, "Do what you want with him."

**A/N: **Cliffhangah! (Imagine awesome guitar riff in the background)

Anyway, review and I'll try to update as fast as I can!


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey! So, new chapter! Hope you like it, and even if you don't you're welcome to leave a review! =) So yeah, R & R, I love your opinions!**

Chapter Four

The force of the Crucio made the spell linger in Severus' body, making him ache everywhere. He could hardly get up anytime soon, so he kept his forehead against the dirty wooden floor, levelling his breathing, trying not to focus on the vivid memory of so much pain.

He was aware of Potter's patient footsteps around him, circling him like a vulture, apparently waiting for Severus to look up. He did eventually, not leaving his crouched together position on the floor.

"Would you like another Crucio or should I do it the muggle way?" Potter asked, his expression emotionless. Severus remembered a time when the boy had always showed his feelings, always wore his heart on his sleeve. Severus had thought it to be a weakness then, but now, when it was gone, he wasn't so sure.

"Do as you please", Severus answered and anger flashed in Potter's eyes.

Good. Anger was an emotion, at least Potter wasn't completely rid of them.

"Don't do that. Don't fake submission, it doesn't suit you", Potter said and walked closer. Severus' face was now only inches from Potter's muddy boots. Severus sneered and inched away and Potter's lip curled in a condescending smile.

Severus forced himself to suffocate the rising anger and instead focused on getting up from the floor.

"No, no. Did I say you could move?" Potter said and Severus wanted to strangle him.

Instead he settled back on the floor, looking up at Potter again, awaiting his next move, but Potter seemed to be off in thought. Severus locked eyes with Potter and slowly, careful not too leave any trace, eased himself into his mind.

It was a turmoil of emotions, despite the empty expression on his face. There was the satisfaction of getting revenge on Severus for his shitty treatment of him in class, but it wasn't nearly as strong as Severus would have suspected. He dove deeper into his mind, completely unnoticed, like a silent boat slicing through the water.

He skimmed through memories of childhood, of times at Hogwarts, of Quidditch, lots and lots of memories of Quidditch and then he caught on a more recent memory, the killing of both muggles and wizards. It was strange, it seemed to consist of several memories, but the actions were the same, the emotions were the same. Potter would watch as the others would torture and maim and hurt and then kill, his expression empty, his insides full of disgust of the other Death Eaters, disgust of these victims, how defenceless they were, disgust of the situation and, most of all, disgust of himself. The faces, the screams, the pleading and all the other details changed, but it was all just the same, at least in Potter's memories.

He moved on to an even fresher memory, of the meeting that they'd just had. He watched as Potter searched Draco Malfoy's head for memories of his friends, of Granger and Weasley. In his head Potter called it 'indulging'.

Then Potter must have noticed his prodding and pushed Severus out of his head violently. Severus could probably have stayed inside his mind if he hadn't been caught so off guard, but now he was left facing the protective walls Potter put up in his mind to keep him from getting inside his head again. Apparently the Dark Lord had succeeded in teaching him some Occlumency.

Potter's boot connected with Severus' shoulder in a painful kick, leaving Severus gasping and groaning again.

"Get the fuck out of my head, Snivellus!" Potter shouted and Severus couldn't resist the urge to curse, from humiliation and pain.

Potter smiled and in his furious state that made him look slightly crazy. Maybe he was. Severus sure would be if he had to spend that much time in Voldemort's proximity, dealing with that blend of feelings.

He could feel Potter's futile attempts at breaching his defence, but he could easily keep him out, even when he was panting and clutching his shoulder.

"Fuck, _fuck!_" Potter exclaimed and Severus found himself dreading another kick.

Another kick didn't come, but Potter circled him, breathing in loud huffs, making Severus nervous.

"Why where you in my head? What where you looking for?" he got out and stopped in front of Severus.

"I'm sorry, I..." he began, but Potter interrupted him with shaking his head violently.

"No! I told you not to do that!" he cried and Severus cringed.

He hadn't known Potter was this unstable. He looked like someone who might have a breakdown any minute. His cheeks were hollow, he had dark circles under his eyes, and his hair was an even bigger mess than before. Almost every trace of his father's proud, pureblood and Lily's soft, kind features were gone, if there were anything left of them, they were distorted beyond recognition.

"I wasn't looking for anything. I was merely..." Curious of your feelings? He couldn't say that, so he settled with, "It will not happen again."

"What did you see?" Potter said in a threatening voice, and Severus was once again reminded of the fact that he was grovelling on the floor and the searing pain in his shoulder.

"I..." Severus wondered if he should lie, and then decided against it. "I saw you doing your duty. I saw you kill", Potter seemed disturbingly calm at this, but Severus knew he probably wasn't as calm on the inside. "I saw you use Legilimency on Draco."

Potter narrowed his eyes slightly. "I was checking to see if he was reliable."

"You don't trust the Dark Lord to decide whether he is reliable or not?"

"Of course I trust Him", Potter answered a bit too quickly.

"Can I move?" Severus asked quietly, getting them away from this troubling subject.

"Yes, yes, sure", Potter said and waved his hand dismissively.

Severus got up on his knees and moved his shoulder around slowly. Nothing was broken but it was going to bruise badly if he didn't take one of his potions soon.

"Are you all right? I didn't mean to..." Potter began hesitantly as Severus hissed slightly in pain.

"Don't fake sympathy, it doesn't suit you", Severus said, throwing Potter's words back at him.

"I wasn't faking", Potter said and turned to walk away.

"I know", Severus mumbled so quietly that it took Potter several steps to understand what he'd said.

"What? What's that supposed to mean?" he said and turned around.

/

Snape took his time standing up before answering Harry's question. "You're not completely void of emotions. You can feel sympathy."

Could he? He wasn't sure anymore if what he felt was pity or if it was something else. He couldn't tell anymore.

"You don't know that", Harry said and tried to flatten his hair with that very familiar movement that felt so out of place now.

"I do. I understand what this place, these people, do to you..." Snape began and walked closer. Harry narrowed his eyes again and something in his expression made Snape stop walking.

"When you say things like that it makes one wonder where your loyalties lie, Snape", Harry said quietly, making sure there was a threatening tinge to it.

"With the Dark Lord, of course", Snape said hurriedly as if he was afraid Harry would run off and tell on him.

"He's watching you", Harry said and Snape paled, if only slightly.

"I..." Snape began and then changed direction. "Why?"

"He thinks you're hiding something."

Snape was quiet and Harry wished he knew what the man was thinking, but his Legilimency was too weak to breach Snape's defences.

"_Are_ you hiding something?" Harry asked and they were standing close now, so close that Harry could see every line in Snape's face, his eyelashes, his thin, cracked lips and his nose. _Of course, how could you miss it_? Harry thought to himself. The dark pools of Snape's eyes were clear and focused on Harry, just a slight touch of nervousness in them, and only if you looked very closely.

"No. Of course not", Snape said and Harry had to look away, he was somehow disappointed.

"You're fooling Dumbledore, then? He still thinks you're loyal to him?"

"Potter, my work for the Dark Lord is none of your business", Snape said quietly.

"You don't think he talks to me about your 'work'?" Harry said threateningly, but still faking. Voldemort sometimes told him things, but Harry never fooled himself by thinking he told Harry everything. "_Because he does_", Harry added in parseltongue.

Snape didn't seem to react at all, and Harry looked down disappointedly. Most people looked fascinated when he spoke in parseltongue, even the jealous ones had an impressed look. But not Snape, he just kept the slightly nervous expression he'd had before.

What was he doing trying to impress Snape? Snape wasn't the one the Dark Lord confided in. Snape was nothing.

"Get out", Harry said, deciding Snape had been punished enough.

/

Severus apparated home first, to clean up and tend to the bruise on his shoulder and then he apparated to Grimmauld Place. They were all waiting for him, Granger, the Weasleys, Lupin, Albus and of course Black.

"How was he?" Granger asked with that worried expression that was so familiar.

Severus tried to keep his face expressionless as he answered with the few news of the night.

He'd had a routine. A routine that didn't include getting welcomed with concerned and sad friends of Harry Potter. It usually included going home and getting drunk and falling asleep at his desk.

That version was much better.

Weasley was usually just quiet and pale at these meetings but now he seemed angry. "Please, Professor. We have to get him!"

Albus quietly shook his head and his blue eyes were weary. "We cannot. It is too dangerous. He is guarded too-"

"I don't care about the risks!" Black exclaimed and stood up. "None of us do!"

Albus remained seated and quiet and Severus felt the need to speak for him.

"Do you want the same thing to happen to one of them?" he asked and pointed to the younger persons in the room. Granger cringed like he was about to hit her but Severus ignored her.

"Of course I don't want that", Black said heatedly. "But we can't just leave him there!"

"I don't see what other choice there is. The guards-"

"We've heard that. We've all heard that", Black said. "But you said so yourself, the guards are less careful now. There is less security. We could-"

"It doesn't matter!" Severus knew he was shouting now but he couldn't stop. "He's the Dark Lord's right hand, for Christ's sake! He would never risk him leaving. You could never pull this _scheme _off! And even if you could he's-"

"That's enough", Albus' tired voice said and Severus looked away from Black who was glaring at him furiously.

Then he turned to the younger Weasleys and the Granger girl. "I think now would be a good time for you to get some sleep. We have some other business to tend to."

They all knew that Albus was dismissing them, that they were going to continue talking about Potter, but they all went quietly anyway. The Weasleys all glared at Severus as they passed him, but Granger shot him some sort of disappointed and sad look. Maybe betrayal was in there too.

When they had cleared out, Lupin, who had been quiet throughout the whole meeting, shut the door and placed silencing spells on it. When he was finished he sat down next to Black, continuing to be quiet.

"Are there any other news, Severus?" Albus asked without looking at him, starting the talk with something other than Potter, maybe pretending that the conversation wasn't going to end up on him anyway.

He told them about the attack they were planning on the muggle school in London. They were planning to release a virus of some sort, to cause panic. They were going to kill hundreds, just to cause some panic.

"He's starting to suspect that I'm not loyal", Severus ended after several news like that. "They're going out on more spur of the moment missions and he's stopped telling me his plans."

"Afraid for your skin, Snape?" Black asked and Severus glared at him before his eyes slid to Lupin.

"Tame your lapdog, Lupin", he said and Black stood up violently, tipping over his chair, searching for his wand in his pockets.

"Sit down!" Albus growled and Black did as he said, but still defiantly kept his eyes on Severus. "This is not the place nor the time to have this argument."

"Forgive me", Severus said, but it was meant for Albus, not for Black.

"I believe there is nothing we can do", Albus said. "We will have to wait and see. If he starts questioning your loyalty in a more direct way we will have no other choice than to reveal your position as a spy, but until then, act as normal as you can."

Severus nodded.

"How is Harry?" Lupin asked when it had seemed like the meeting was over. "Seriously, without the children listening."

Severus looked up into serious grey eyes. "He's... I don't know if he will be all right even if you miraculously succeed in saving him. I don't know how loyal he is to the Dark Lord. I can't speak to him about it because if he is loyal to him he will expose me as a spy."

"He isn't loyal to him. How could he be?" Black asked and his expression was softer.

He could be. He acted like he was, but Severus hadn't figured out if that was just for show or if the Dark Lord really had seeped in that deep.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Hello again! So, new chapter, and in this one I should warn you about some memories of torture again, just so you know. Anyhow, hope you like it and if you do, please review!

Chapter Five

"Please", Harry whined under his breath. "No..."

They laughed and some unrecognisable voice spoke.

Harry didn't recognise the voice and by now he'd stopped trying to figure out who they were. They were just dark shapes and hidden faces and laughs and taunts now.

The pain was there again, without Harry even noticing that they had raised their wands or uttered any words.

The pain filled him up, was everywhere. His whole body hurt like he'd been ripped apart, every nerve was getting teared to shreds, his muscles were tensing up and convulsing. The air burned in his lungs like acid at every breath, and... Then it was gone and Harry could relax against the filthy dirt floor, and breathe clear air again. He spluttered and coughed and when he tried to reach his hand out to steady himself he was shaking so hard that he couldn't even get his fingers to move.

Someone was talking to him, saying his name, he knew that much, but the other words were lost in that fog that made up his life nowadays. He swallowed and the dryness was there as usual, making his tongue feel like sandpaper. He mumbled something about water and was met with more cold laughter.

Harry woke with a start and sat up in his bed. He didn't cry, he didn't do that anymore, but he thought for a second that he would. He hadn't thought about those first few weeks with Voldemort for a long time.

But then again he didn't have to think about it, it was always in the back of his head, like a dull, throbbing headache. That fog was never far away.

He had another typical day with Voldemort. He woke up, ignored the Harry in the mirror, cleaned himself, dressed, ate a tasteless breakfast made by one of the skinny, dirty house elves, and then there was a lesson.

It was Snape this time, teaching him about potions. They were into the complicated darker potions now, learning the uses of dragon scales in enslaving potions. Harry was still edgy about being around Snape, the man was so familiar. At least now he didn't have to be polite to him, now they were equals. Or something reminding of equals.

/

"Snape", Potter said as he walked in to the emptied out bedroom. His hair was wet and slicked back against his head, and Severus guessed he'd taken a shower.

"Potter", Severus said and then he left Potter by the door, turning away to gather his things. He wasn't really sure about turning his back to Potter, but he was supposed to be able to trust him wasn't he?

"You never used to wear your shirt like that", Potter said closer than before, making Severus start. He turned slowly and carefully and was face to face with the 16 year old.

"Like what?" he asked and Potter's eyes glided over him and down to his arms, stopping at the left one with the Dark Mark.

"Your sleeves are rolled up. I've never seen you like that", Potter said and Severus was glad that they were standing at least a few metres apart.

"You saw me in class. That was different. You were my pupil", Severus said and Potter looked down at the floor with a small smile.

"What am I now then?" he asked quietly and Severus pretended he hadn't heard.

/

He wasn't rude to him in these lessons. He just told Harry what to do and then he slid back into the shadows and watched as Harry tried to follow his instructions. If Harry made a mistake, which he rarely did when there were no distracting friends or Slytherins, he came up next to him and told him what he'd done wrong and what to do next, or if he had to start over. Harry sort of liked that Snape was too scared to taunt him when he made a mistake, but it was sad too. He'd always been able to rely on Snape being an arse, whatever happened in his life. But now, nothing.

"What do you teach the seventh years?" Harry asked quietly as he stirred the potion slowly, and Snape looked up from his own potion.

"I don't teach potions anymore", he said and Harry frowned.

"What?" he asked and Snape kept looking at him blankly.

"I teach Defence Against the Dark Arts", he said and looked down at his potion again. "How many times have you stirred?"

Harry looked down at his potion which was slowly turning purple. "Oh. Too many times", he said and dropped the stirring rod.

"Add the nightshade, that should salvage it", he said without hurry, even though Harry could tell that he wanted to yell at him for screwing up.

Harry did and the potion turned the normal dark green. "Dumbledore let you teach Defence Against the Dark Arts?" Harry asked with a small smile, knowing that he was entering dangerous territory.

"Yes", Snape said, still not looking at Harry's face.

"Why? Doesn't he know that you're..." Harry searched for words, but only came up with the easy and obvious, "A Death Eater?"

"He knows. He also believes that I'm a spy", Snape said quietly. "He trusts me. Turn the heat up, it's supposed to be boiling by now."

Harry waved his wand and watched as the flames under the cauldron grew bigger and the potion slowly started bubbling, like boiling, green tar.

Harry could barely remember what Dumbledore looked like anymore. He remembered the long grey beard, and the half moon glasses, but he couldn't remember what his face actually looked like. Wrinkly, of course, and smiling gently, but that was it.

He could remember Hermione and Ron so well only because he'd watched Malfoy's memories of them. And it was mostly Hermione and she was always surrounded by this glow or shimmer. Malfoy's version of her was more a fairytale version than what she really looked like, he remembered her as prettier and more graceful.

The clearest memory Harry had of Hermione, the best memory that was actually his own, was her shouting at them in her torn Yule Ball dress, her face red and wet with tears.

"Well done, Potter", Snape said and Harry slowly came back to the real world and away from the shouting Hermione.

He didn't say thank you, even though that was actually a compliment (a compliment from Snape!), but just nodded, slightly angry about being pulled out of daydreaming.

Snape started cleaning everything away and Harry noticed that he didn't throw the potions away, but carefully put them in containers.

"Are those going to be used?" Harry asked and gestured to the containers filled with the dark green liquid.

Snape didn't look up now either. "Yes."

And Harry wanted to throw up. The thought of someone drinking the sludgy potion and then forever being bound to someone against their will, being bound to Voldemort most likely, against their will was... Nauseating.

"Oh", he said instead.

Snape finally met his eyes and Harry looked into those dark pools. "Do you want me to throw your potion away?"

/

Potter looked into his eyes and then his gaze wandered over Severus' face as if he was looking for signs of lying, which he probably was. He finally nodded and Severus chose not to say anything. Potter might think he was loyal to the Dark Lord, but he wasn't, not really. If Potter knew he had another option he wouldn't choose the Dark Lord, Severus was sure of it.

"You like to wear your sleeves like that because it shows your Dark Mark, don't you? You can't do that anywhere else", Potter said and Severus nodded. Yes. That was true. He couldn't really show it off at Hogwarts, could he? It was strange, not being able to show others a part of his body he himself had to live with everyday.

Potter reached his hand out and almost touched the snake and the skull with his fingertips, only really brushing by it. Severus just barely managed to pull his arm away calmly, instead of snatching it away or worse, leaning in, letting those smooth fingers run over more skin.

/

Harry watched as Snape threw the potion away and then he said, "I screwed it up."

Snape looked up with a questioning look.

"The potion. I screwed it up, that's why we're throwing it away. Right?" Harry said. Not because he couldn't bear to do his duty.

"Of course", Snape said and he had gone back to not looking at him.

**A/N: **I'm hoping to update before Christmas, but if I don't: Merry Christmas!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Hey, people. I've been really late with updates (especially with my other fic, When two people love each other, which is going to be updated soon, promise). Anyway, pardon me. I've been busy with Christmas and New Years and all that stuff, but I'm updating now. And it's a long chapter!=)

Also, I guess in this chapter I'm warning for some torture and innocent people being taken captive and an overall creepy Rookwood.

I'd like to say that I took some sentences (some things Voldemort says) out of the book, because I wanted to keep it as close as possible to the book. But I took it from the Swedish version so I've just tried to translate it as best as I could.

Hope you like it and, as always, review!

Chapter Six

Harry watched Lucius Malfoy as he talked, not really listening to the words. The role as the submissive that he played with the Dark Lord didn't suit him. He was made to mingle in fancy parties. How he looked, how he moved, made you sure of it. Even when he had his head bowed in submission and even when he was recovering from a Crucio, his movements were graceful and fluid.

Snape, on the other hand, was a chameleon. Harry had believed it when he'd been a dominating creep in class at Hogwarts, and Harry believed him now when he was the loyal, obedient servant. All the roles suited him and it made him hard to trust, in Harry's opinion. He never really knew where he had him and it made him suspicious.

"_Harry_", Voldemort hissed and Harry leaned in from his seat next to him.

"_Yes, my Lord?"_ Harry answered and kept his eyes lowered.

The Dark Lord brought his hand up to Harry's face and Harry looked into his red eyes. His thin face, that had been handsome once, had a gentle expression. "Pay attention", he said in English, wanting the others to hear. He released Harry's jaw with a sharp flick of his wrist.

He turned to the rest of the gathered Death Eaters and most of them immediately looked away, but a few kept looking back at him.

"Charity Burbage. I want you to bring her to me", he said slowly and Harry thought about the name. He remembered it vaguely and he wondered from where.

"Severus", Voldemort continued and Severus met his eyes. "You're familiar with her?"

"I have met her, yes", Snape said and the others glanced at him.

A content smile flashed on Voldemort's lips, then he said, "_Harry. Find her. Bring her here. Bring Rookwood, Severus, Draco... That would be enough. I don't think she'll be very hard to overpower."_

"_Yes, My Lord."_

Snape usually wasn't out on field missions but Harry didn't wonder too much about it. He knew the woman, didn't he?

The listening had all heard the names and were now looking tensely at Harry. Harry stood up and bowed before looking over at Rookwood, Snape and the younger Malfoy. His father looked nervous and worried, but was hiding it well enough. No one was watching him anyway, except for Harry.

They apparated together to the place Voldemort had told him Charity Burbage could be found. It was just a street name so Harry had no idea which town or even which country, even though the name sounded English. It was a security thing, if he didn't know where he was he wouldn't be able to properly plan an escape. Harry might technically be in charge, but he knew that they were all watching him. Rookwood never let his eyes wander from Harry and even Snape watched him more than he had to.

Harry looked around him. They were standing in an alley, Harry didn't know where, just an alley. It was lit up by streetlights, reflecting off the wet cobblestones in the street. The buildings around them towered up tall, showing only a small glimpse of the sky and the stars above them. Harry didn't see the moon, but maybe there was no moon that night, he didn't really know.

Malfoy was next to him, visibly shaking, his breathing coming out in ragged huffs. He must be nervous, it was his first mission for the Dark Lord. He could prove himself with this, or he could be a disappointment.

Harry almost wanted to reach out and touch his arm or something to comfort him, but he decided against it.

Harry started walking in silence and Snape settled in next to him, Rookwood and Malfoy walking quickly after them. Harry got his wand ready, letting the familiar form slip into his hand easily.

"Who is she?" Harry asked as they stalked down the street, in and out of the shadows.

"A teacher", Snape said. He had his wand out too, Harry could tell by how he held his hand and arm, even though he couldn't actually see it under the long sleeve of his robes.

"At Hogwarts?" Harry asked and Snape stopped in front of a pair of steps leading up to a door. The doorway had intricate patterns of flowers and leaves and fairies and it looked like something typical of the magic world, which made Harry suspect that they were in a wizarding part of a town.

"Yes", Snape said without emotion and added, "Muggle Studies."

Harry didn't answer that, but just focused on the door. It probably had some spell on it to keep intruders out, like an alarm. He stepped back and looked at Rookwood, the former burglar.

"Open it, please", Harry said and Rookwood smiled his toothy grin.

"Of course."

It swung open with ease after a few minutes of Rookwood working on it and Harry stepped in to the dark hall last, closing the door behind them.

They seemed extremely out of place in the homely hallway, the four of them in their cloaks, their wands at the ready.

"Lumos", Harry mumbled and the cold, blue light that spread from his wand lit up the hallway and the sparse furniture inside. By the look of her house, Charity Burbage wasn't a wealthy woman.

They moved quietly through the house and found her in the small bedroom upstairs, deep asleep. She stirred when they walked in, but she didn't show in any other way that she sensed their presence.

She was a chubby woman, with brown, worn-looking hair and a soft and kind looking face. If her pyjamas looked anything like her normal clothes she dressed well and elegantly.

Harry walked closer to the bed, leaving the others silently waiting by the door. He looked more closely at the soft features of her face and her amazingly thick eyelashes. He wished she would open her eyes, he suspected her eyes would be pretty, the kind of eyes that made you focus and slow down.

"Potter?" Malfoy, of all people, called out hesitantly.

Harry closed his eyes and inclined his head towards them, not turning around. "Yes?"

Malfoy didn't answer and Harry didn't have to turn around to be able to imagine his nervous fidgeting.

"All right", Harry said and stepped away, letting Rookwood take the lead.

He walked around the bed as he unhurriedly put a body binding spell on her, waking her up. She opened her eyes with a sniffle and a low desperate sound in the back of her throat when she realised she couldn't move. Harry was glad to find out that he'd been right about her eyes, they had a clear blue colour that contrasted against her hair in a startling way.

"What are you-? Wh-" she stuttered out in a high pitched panicky tone. Her eyes filled up with tears, but they didn't spill over and Harry was glad for that. "S-Severus?"

Harry looked back at Snape who looked at the woman desperately struggling to understand the situation. He didn't show that he was uncomfortable in any way except for maybe his posture which was unusually stiff even for Snape.

"Charity", Rookwood said, teasing, and leaned down close to her face and the tears did spill, running streaks down her face.

"Please", she whimpered and tried to lean away from Rookwood's rough, grinning face. "Please, I'll-"

Rookwood ignored her pleads and turned to Malfoy. "Draco, would you like to play?"

It would have been such an innocent thing to say in another situation, but when Rookwood said it, it sounded obscene.

Malfoy had paled, but was about to take a step forward when Harry spoke.

"He told us to be quick", Harry reminded. His quiet voice could still be heard throughout the room even over Charity Burbage's loud, laboured breathing.

Rookwood grimaced, but straightened up and said through clenched teeth, "Of course."

/

"Please... Please", she begged and the door shook with her punches. Harry stared at the door through the darkness in the cellar. She had been in there for hours, never silencing, never stopping the pounding on the door.

"Please... I have family. I have parents!" she screamed, her voice hoarse. "I know you're out there! Please!"

Harry didn't think she even knew what she was begging for anymore. It had started as 'please let me go', then it became 'please don't hurt me' and 'please stop'. Then came the 'please don't kill me'.

Harry closed his eyes again and tried to drown out the screams, to concentrate on the smell of the earth inside the cellar and the feel of the rough stone against his back.

Twenty minutes must have passed until he realised that she'd grown silent. Harry opened his eyes with a start and took the step it took to cross the hallway towards the door and placed his palm against the door in one fluid motion.

Harry took a step away and hesitated. It could be trick. He could open the door just to be met with a fist or clawing nails. But then again, she could have tried to kill herself or worse, found a way out. The latter seemed unlikely, but he couldn't be sure. Harry decided and took a step away from the door, pulling out his wand. He whispered a quiet 'Alohomora' and the door unlocked with a subtle 'click'. Charity Burbage was still quiet, which was a bad sign.

Harry swung the door open quickly and pointed his wand into the dark. He stood in the doorway, making sure to block it completely, in case she decided to make a run for it.

The light from the hall cast light on the dirt floor, and Harry's eyes darted around the lit up parts of the room. He found her in one of the corners, shaking, hiding her face from Harry and the light. Harry took a step towards her when it was clear that it wasn't a trick, but didn't bring his wand down.

"Why d-did-?", she got out between shakes, but then cut herself off by trying to scramble further into the corner, further away from Harry.

"The Dark Lord doesn't approve of what you teach", Harry said, even though he knew he should have walked out and locked the door a long time ago.

"B-but..." she stuttered, but her voice was stronger this time. Her hands had moved away from her face.

Harry thought that he maybe recognised her, even though he'd never taken her lessons. He'd seen her in between classes, walking with other teachers. She didn't look much like herself now though, her face was red and streaked with tears and her hair was tousled. She looked like she'd had a really bad nightmare.

"I've never lied to my students", she continued, her face hard. "What is the difference between us and muggles? Nothing, except for the ability to use magic. We're exactly the same. Exactly."

Harry was already on his way out, but she'd raised her voice enough that Harry, even when he'd closed the door, could hear every word.

/

Severus found Potter asleep on the floor outside the cell they'd put her in. He looked just as haunted in his sleep as he did when he was awake.

"Potter?" Severus asked, but got no reaction from the boy slumped back against the wall. The cellar was bitingly cold and Severus wondered how he'd managed to fall asleep in the first place.

"Harry?" Severus crouched down next to him, putting the tray of food down, and nudged his side.

Potter frowned in his sleep and sleepily opened his eyes. His eyes left Severus' face and went to the door in an instant, as soon as he realised where he was.

Potter cleared his throat and asked, "What are you doing here?"

"I brought her some food. You need to get some sleep", Severus answered and then added, "In your own bed."

"Sure", Potter said and stumbled to his feet, pulling a hand through his hair.

"I can give her the food if you want?" Potter asked and looked up at him with a smile. "I mean, if you..."

"No, go to sleep", Severus said and picked the tray up. It was just scraps and leftovers, things you would give to a dog.

Potter looked down at the floor, and nodded. "Right."

Severus watched him leave quietly and then unlocked the door, balancing the tray with his left hand.

"Severus?" Charity's weak voice said from the shadows.

Severus didn't answer, he just put the tray down on the floor and turned to leave.

"Please", she said and grabbed his leg in a surprisingly hard grip.

Severus stopped and looked down at her.

"What are they going to do with me?" she asked, her usually soft voice raspy and rough.

Severus looked out the door. He could just walk away and ignore her. He could do that.

"Please. Tell me", she continued and let out a sob. "Are you g-going to kill me?"

Severus hesitated. "Maybe. I don't know which one of us it'll be."

Her hand fell away from his leg and she covered her face with her hands and cried quietly.

Severus pushed the tray away and got down on his knees. "Charity. Don't die like this."

She looked up hesitantly and he knew she hadn't expected any kindness from him, just the harsh truth. But he could give her both, couldn't he?

"Severus..." she whispered.

"No", he said harshly and took her hands away from her face. "Be strong. Don't let him win. Go with dignity."

The tears kept running in a steady stream, but she didn't seem to be paying any attention to them anymore. She looked at him with those pale eyes and nodded.

Severus pulled her up with him as he stood up, just because it would have felt horrible to look down at her again.

She actually smiled at him before he closed the door, but he heard the thud on the other side of the closed door as she fell back on the floor and he heard the sobbing begin again when he started to walk away.

/

Harry waited in the stairs and listened to Snape comfort Charity Burbage.

Now he'd done it again, he'd made Harry unsure of where he stood. Snape fit every role, even the one as comforting coworker.

Snape stopped when he saw him and Harry thought for a second about letting him guess how much he'd heard, but decided that would have been to cruel.

He smiled. "'Go with dignity'?"

Snape clenched and unclenched his hand and Harry stood up and took a step down towards Snape.

"It was nice of you", Harry continued. "Good call, leaving out the torture and humiliation that comes before the dying."

"You don't have to mock her", he said coldly, sounding angry.

"'Mock her'? You're the one mocking her. Saying that, making her think you're on her side..."

Snape looked like he was about to say something, but then didn't.

"What is she going to think when they, when we, 'Crucio' her and you just stand by?" Harry continued and Snape pushed him up against the wall harshly.

"Stop talking, Potter", he hissed out angrily.

"Do you fake friendships with all the prisoners?" Harry asked sourly, and Snape snorted out a laugh.

"Is this what it's about? The fact that I didn't 'comfort' _you_?" he said and Harry spit in his face.

"I should go to Him with this", Harry got out between clenched teeth. "Let Him deal with you."

Snape moved away from him and wiped his face with his sleeve and spit out,"Are you listening to yourself? You're sixteen and you're talking about turning me in to the Dark Lord?"

Harry looked away.

"He killed your parents." He had lowered his voice but he still sounded cold, and Harry didn't dare to look back at him.

"No, you did", he whispered and Snape stiffened.

He was crying, Harry realised, after several quiet seconds. Snape was crying. He could feel the wetness against his shirt as Snape leaned his head against his shoulder and... cried.

"Sorry", Harry mumbled breathlessly, and Snape ignored him.

He didn't cry like Charity Burbage, or any of the others like her, he cried quietly, with dignity and Harry had no doubt that if he had been in Charity's situation he would have followed his own advice and died with pride.

Snape brought his hands up to Harry's neck and jaw and Harry leaned into the touch. His hands were warm and soft and so, so much better than Voldemort's cold, clammy hands.

"I'm sorry", Snape finally said as he pushed himself away from Harry. He kept his face turned away from Harry and the light, probably ashamed. Harry would have liked to see him, looking vulnerable, tears in his eyes and his face all red and mushy.

"It's fine", Harry said, softer than he meant to and then they kissed.

It wasn't a big change. Harry thought they'd both kind of known it was coming, ever since Harry had almost touched his Mark. And the crying had definitely been a bigger deal. But it was nice, and soft and warm and so much better than anything that had happened to Harry for... Years, really.

Snape tasted salty, like tears, and Harry enjoyed slowly tasting him. They kissed for ages, it felt like, before Snape gently broke away.

"I need to leave now or people will wonder why I took so long", Snape said slowly, choosing to not mention the kiss.

"Okay", Harry answered and smiled slightly. "I'll go first."

/

A/N: I got a Twilight T-shirt for Christmas (Oh, the horror, oh the pain!) so I think I deserve a few reviews, don't you think?


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Hey, so this is chapter number seven, hope you'll like it! Read and enjoy and tell me what you think afterwards.

Chapter Seven

"We have to get him!" Black shouted, arguing about the same thing as usual. The others, the Order, the Weasley children, Lupin, Granger, they all shouted back at each other, neither of them hearing what the others were saying. In the end Albus raised his hand and they grew silent.

"No", he began and Black immediately opened his mouth to argue. "No. We have all heard Severus'-"

"I agree with Black", Severus said quietly, leaning back in his chair, and they all turned to stare at him in quiet disbelief.

"Good!" Black finally exclaimed and threw his hands up in the air.

"What has made you change your mind, Severus?" Albus asked and Severus thought about Potter's lips against his own and his warm breath against his cheek and his soft skin under his fingers.

"This is as good a time as any", he just said, and avoided Albus' eyes.

Black let out a relieved and happy sigh and Granger gave a thrilled yelp and threw her arms around the youngest Weasley boy, who was smiling with a slightly shocked expression.

Albus and Lupin still looked doubting and Severus found himself avoiding them for the rest of the evening.

But, giving his luck, Lupin waited for him outside the door when he was leaving, jumping out from the shadows, almost making Severus start.

"Were you waiting for me, Lupin?" he asked curtly.

Lupin made an irritated face and then nodded. It wasn't like Lupin to show his annoyance and anger this openly, he always treated Severus with that tiresome, polite niceness.

"Tell me what happened. Why the sudden change in opinion?" he asked and Severus wanted to hit him.

Severus shook his head. 'Why the sudden change in opinion?' He couldn't possibly tell him the truth, he didn't even know the truth himself. He didn't want to take Harry away from Voldemort just because they'd kissed, it wasn't for selfish reasons, to keep him close. It was... It was the strangeness of everything, that Potter would kiss him, that he'd find himself pressed against him in the cellar of Voldemort's hiding place. He guessed it made him realise that that wasn't how it was supposed to be. Potter was a teenager, he was supposed to be innocently groping some seventh year in the dark corners of the Hogwarts' library. The whole situation was just wrong.

Severus smiled bitterly and broke eye contact with the wolf. "You should be in celebrating with the rest of them."

"I don't like this. You're the only link we have to him and you're keeping something from us", he said, ignoring Severus' attempt to get out of the situation, and for a second it became even more difficult to keep from meeting those brown eyes.

"I promise you I'm not." The lie slipped from his lips naturally, and Lupin seemed to believe him.

He bit his lip and looked down. "Fine. I guess you're right, I should be in there celebrating."

He quirked his lips up in a small smile and then slipped back in through the door, leaving Severus staring at the dark.

/

Severus watched Potter squirm in his sleep, face pale and sweaty, and decided against walking closer from his place by the door. Potter mumbled something in his sleep, "Please, no", and then he let out a breathy whine. He had known about the nightmares, he had them too, but if it was this bad maybe they should be making Dreamless Sleep potions next time he had the pleasure of teaching him.

Potter gave one last toss and then snapped his eyes open.

"Potter?" he said softly, trying not to scare him.

Potter's head jerked to Severus' direction and then he said hoarsely, his voice breaking at the last word. "Who's there?"

Severus walked up to the bed and Potter let out a breath. "Oh."

"They need you downstairs, they sent me to fetch you", Severus said, and it was hard to restrain himself from reaching out and brushing the hair from Potter's face or stroke his cheek, or just touch him.

"What for?" he asked, still out of breath.

"The Dark Lord", Severus hesitated at his choice of words, "has sent for her. He wants you there."

He didn't have to mention Charity Burbage's name for Potter to know who he was talking about.

Potter nodded and got up shakily and Severus went to stand by the door again. Potter slept in only bottoms and Severus looked away, only having time to see a little of Potter's pale skin.

Potter must have noticed it and gave a little laugh. "It's nothing you haven't seen before."

"Maybe", Severus said and he could see from the corner of his eye how Potter walked up towards him, pulling his shirt over his head.

"Hey", Potter said, hesitating slightly.

"Yes?" Severus said and turned his head towards the now fully dressed teen, who looked up at him with eyes rimmed with red.

And Potter pressed himself against him and Severus brought his arms around him almost automatically. They fit together nicely, Severus thought, oddly satisfied. Potter buried his face in his robes and when Severus looked down at him, he had his eyes closed.

"I had a nightmare", he murmured, every word letting out puffs of warm air against Severus' chest. "Thank you."

Severus didn't answer, he just held him closer to him. "Okay?" he asked after a while and Potter untangled himself from the embrace and nodded.

Potter kissed him, slowly, running his fingers over his cheek softly. And then he stepped away with a hesitant smile and was gone out the door in seconds.

/

"Yes, Professor Burbage has been teaching the children of witches and wizards all about muggles... How they're not so unlike us..." Voldemort said coldly, looking down at the woman slouched before his feet, the others following his every move.

"No..." she whined and attempted to move away, and Bellatrix gave a disdainful snort.

"Crucio", Voldemort hissed and she gave a long howl of pain and a few of them laughed loudly, clearly enjoying themselves.

Harry crossed his arms and steadied his foothold, looking down at her without emotion.

"Please", she cried and a few laughed scornfully.

Voldemort then talked about what she'd written, defending mudbloods, in the Daily Prophet. He talked about the shame of it and the gathered dark clad group sneered and looked down at her in disgust.

She had started mumbling quietly, rambling, her eyes far away, and Harry knew she wasn't far away from the silent apathetic staring.

The Dark Lord looked furious now, he'd worked himself up into a rage, torturing her for at least an hour, maybe even more. Most people would have cracked before this, but she seemed strong. Maybe she had cracked, inside. She wouldn't be the same after this anyway, not that she would live after this.

"Harry", he said and motioned for Harry to join him. "For a job well done."

Harry smirked and it worked on automatics. He moved because he had to, he didn't even think about it, his legs just seemed to work on their own, knowing where to stand to not have to meet her eyes, but still standing in front of her. It was like breathing, if he didn't think about it he didn't even notice he was doing it. He raised his wand and that was easy too, but the words were harder. He had to take a breath, because he knew he had to mean it, or else it wouldn't work. He had to really hate this woman for it to work.

"Crucio", he finally said, and it echoed through the room, like it was empty, like it was only Harry and the pathetic, shapeless mass on the floor.

The magic surged through him and he smiled. Pure, rough power. It felt wonderful. He heard her scream, but it was in the back of his mind, a distant annoyance. And then he dropped the spell and realised he'd closed his eyes. The woman on the floor panted and breathed harshly through her nose, letting out the occasional desperate, hoarse coughs.

"Thank you, My Lord", Harry said quietly.

Voldemort walked up to her, his wand raised, and then he leaned down, a cruel smile on his face.

"This", he said quietly, his voice still filled with rage, and yanked her face up into the light, "This is what becomes of those who degrade themselves and the wizarding race in such an obscene way as to pity _mudbloods _and _muggles."_

"No... Please don't..." Charity Burbage snivelled, and frantically tried to pull away.

"Avada Kedavra", he hissed and with a short, bright, green flare Charity Burbage fell limp to the floor.

/

Severus couldn't help but stare as Potter lifted his wand with a slow, expectant move and said the word, "Crucio", quietly. The effect was immediate. Burbage let out a long screeching howl and her red rimmed eyes flew open, staring blankly at the blackness above her.

It was marvellous to watch in a sort of morbidly fascinating way. Severus knew, he'd been there, he'd felt that thrill of how much control you had over another person, and he knew why Potter closed his eyes in pleasure. Severus could almost feel it too, just by looking at him.

And then he stopped and stepped away, looking at the floor, showing his gratitude towards his lord. His fucking _owner, _Severus thought and hoped that his revulsion didn't show.

Voldemort ridiculed her, while she lay on the floor, whimpering and pleading. How could he get so much pleasure from mocking that? That poor defenceless woman? And how could Severus have been drawn to that? A long time ago he'd been captured by the power, but this wasn't power. She couldn't even defend herself.

And Voldemort killed her. Just like that, two words, and he had erased a whole human being.

Her body collapsed on the floor with a sickening thud, which echoed through the silent room. And then Bellatrix laughed a cold, delighted laugh and that set off the rest of them. No one dared to move, but they all let out laughs or jeers or pleased noises.

Severus glanced at Draco and his father by his side. They were both pale, staring at the body with badly disguised distaste. Malfoys were not made to handle dead bodies.

And then they were told to leave and Severus apparated to Grimmauld place, as usual. Only Albus, Black and Lupin were there this time, it must have been too late for the children. They shouldn't be listening to it anyway, but then the thought that they were at least the same age as Potter occurred to him and he changed his mind.

"Severus", Albus said, a concerned look on his face. "You don't look well."

"I'm fine."

Charity Burbage isn't, he wanted to say, but didn't. They knew that she'd been taken and they hadn't been able to help. They'd had no choice but to let her get killed.

He told them anyway that she'd died, been killed, and a suffocating silence fell over the room. Severus sat down and remembered the look on Potter's face as he tortured her.

He didn't tell them about that. He rarely did tell them about the horrible things Potter did. He wondered if he had to at all. Maybe not.

"So we all agree that we should do it when they're out on... whatever you call it", Black said and Severus drifted back to the conversation again.

They mumbled in agreement or nodded.

"We must be discreet about this. No one can know except the ones we can trust", Albus said and Severus decided to ignore the way Black looked at him.

"His... Potter's friends? Granger and Weasley? Should we tell them?" Severus asked and rubbed his eyes. He needed a good nights sleep.

"They'd want to help", Black said hesitantly.

"They're only children", Lupin said and dropped his hand to the table with a heavy thud.

"They've been through as much any adult has", Severus said and both Black and Lupin looked at him thoughtfully.

"You're right. I suspect it would be impossible to stop them from 'helping' anyway", Lupin said and smiled a sad and slightly bitter smile.

"And should I talk to him about it?" Severus asked and no one seemed to want to answer.

"Er..."

Severus realised they were waiting for his opinion. It felt both good and strange to be the expert on Potter.

"I wouldn't advice it. He would have trouble keeping it from the Dark Lord. It's too risky."

He didn't add that he was worried about Potter, that was too private.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **Hey, so, new chapter. Hope you'll like it, and review if you do. Or if you don't, whatever… *cool uncaring face*

Chapter Eight

Harry didn't go around feeling any residue of the spell or any emotion about casting it. He felt nothing. He couldn't even remember her face anymore. She was just one of many, and if he would remember all of them he would go crazy.

So he went on with his life and he didn't think about anything but now. 'Now' was a good word. 'Now' wasn't bad for Harry. He wasn't hungry, he wasn't injured, he wasn't dead. That was good. 'Before' and 'yesterday' and 'tomorrow' weren't so good, but who cared? There was just the present, really. That was all he had to worry about.

He ducked another spell that Bellatrix cast and rolled to the side, casting a fast counter curse. Bellatrix always got distracted by her anger, and when they were duelling Harry often took advantage of the fact that she felt a lot of anger towards him. It was easy to rile her up and when she got riled up she got clumsy and made mistakes. Her spells were poorly aimed now and she had begun spitting out insults, a good sign for Harry.

She had begun circling around the room, her eyes narrowed and her breathing uneven. She spat out some insult that Harry wasn't listening to, because he was concentrated on her movements. He tried to anticipate her next move, as she'd reluctantly taught him, and when she shot off a burning curse he knew before she'd even lifted her wand. He sent it propelling back to her, and it hit her in the gut, sending her flying across the room.

Harry let his right hand, still clutching his wand, fall to his side as he stood still, letting his breathing even out. Bellatrix lay gasping and clutching her stomach, propping herself up against the wall. She wasn't seriously injured, the ball of fire had only hit fabric, which was now only slightly scorched.

The sharp smell of smoke spread through the room slowly, the bitter taste filling up Harry's mouth, making him cough. He took a step towards Bellatrix and she turned her red, embarrassed face away from him, hissing out a "Get out!" before she let out a pathetic sob.

Harry realised a second too late that he shouldn't have turned his back to her. Her spell hit his back hard, knocking the air out of him, and he remembered falling and reaching his hands out to the fast approaching floor before loosing consciousness.

/

When Harry woke up, Snape was there, sitting next to him. He didn't seem to notice Harry had woken up, because he seemed distant and distraught, looking down at his hands resting in his lap.

Harry looked around slowly, not feeling worried at all even though there was a searing pain in his back, because some part of him knew things were safe, just because Snape was there. Silly.

He was in his bed, he knew that because over Snape's shoulder he saw himself, pale and drowsy, in the big mirror.

"Harry?" Snape asked quietly, leaning over him, his dark eyes worried.

"What happened? What did she do?" Harry asked and pushed himself up, ignoring the pain.

"Hey", Snape said sharply, but still quietly. "Don't move."

"This is ridiculous. It doesn't hurt that bad", he said as Snape warningly putting his hands on his shoulders, keeping him still.

"Don't lie", Snape said, leaning back in the chair by the bed, not letting Harry out of his sight.

He sat quietly and watched Harry and the room with muted interest until he noticed Harry's eyes on him.

"Would you like some numbing potion?" he asked and Harry shook his head. He liked the pain, it made him stay focused.

"Why are you here?" Harry asked, not that he minded Snape being there. He liked the dark sort of comfort it gave him.

"I'm supposed to administer your potions", he said and hesitated a second before continuing, "And I didn't think you should be alone when you woke up."

Harry smiled slightly and said, "How caring of you", earning a smirk from Snape.

"Why though?" Harry asked, faking bemusement. "You used to hate me."

Snape lowered his eyes slightly, just a subtle sign that he might be ashamed.

"I never hated you", he said and when Harry started to argue he explained, "I hated your father."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "He treated you like crap, didn't he?"

"Well, I didn't treat him very well either", Snape said, rationally, and it sounded forced, like he'd told himself so many times it sounded like the truth.

Harry moved his eyes from Snape to the mirror, eyeing himself critically. "Do I still remind you of him?"

"No", Snape hurried to say, sounding almost nervous. "You're..."

Harry smiled again when Snape cut himself off, and when he turned to him, Snape was looking at him intently, his eyes boring into Harry's own. Harry rarely looked people in the eyes, he knew that was a way to expose himself, to open himself up to Legilimency, but when it came to Snape he found he didn't care. He wanted Snape to know what he was thinking.

"I'm what?" Harry asked and leaned forward now, but Snape just gave a small twitch to indicate that he wanted to force him to lie down again.

"You're... You're not at all like your father. You never were", Snape said in a level voice, leaning closer too.

Harry wanted to touch him then, to kiss him, and Snape must have known somehow, because he leaned over and stroked Harry's cheek with a long, sleek hand, his thumb moving slowly over Harry's bottom lip.

/

James Potter had never been this damaged. He hated himself for thinking it, for almost saying it, because how could this perfect, beautiful Harry Potter ever be described as even close to damaged. But he knew it was true, even if he wanted to tell himself it wasn't, that Potter was perfectly fine. He was damaged, and Severus wasn't sure if he wanted him to be repaired, if that was even possible. The dark desire to keep him this depressed and miserable, just to keep him close, was almost overbearing. It was selfish, he knew that and he knew it was wrong of him, and he wanted so badly to ignore the sensible and righteous part of himself, but he knew he had to listen to him eventually.

Potter leaned in and pressed his lips against Severus' and in that moment he actually could quiet that part of his mind that screamed that he had to let him be happy, and that he never could be that with Severus.

He was so soft, so fragile, so wonderful to touch and hold and taste. Potter pulled away with a soft intake of breath, smiling shyly up at him.

"I have to leave soon", Severus whispered and his smile wavered.

"You always have to leave soon", he said, placing a soft kiss against his cheek. "I don't want you to leave."

God. Severus didn't think anyone had ever said that to him. 'I don't want you to leave'. It made a bittersweet feeling rise up in his stomach, and when he spoke he found it was hard to get the words out.

"I don't want to leave either", he got out and brushed Potter's jet-black hair away from his face, just to occupy his hands with something else than clinging to Potter like he was drowning.

_Soon you're leaving too. _The words were both dreaded and welcome, but Severus didn't say them. Potter was leaving Voldemort, and this part of his life behind him soon, and then he could forget all this darkness and pain. Severus did want that, _he did, _he thought as he looked up into the emerald green eyes, even if it meant that Harry would forget Severus too.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** Hey, long chapter this time. I'll warn for some torturing and killing of, well you'll see… Review because at the end of this chapter you'll go crazy. And you'll need to vent a little. I swear.

Chapter Nine

"But he is all right?" Black asked with a bewildered and worried look on his face.

"Yes. He'll be in pain for a few days, but other than that he'll be fine", Severus answered, not managing to calm the other man at all.

Granger stopped her biting on her nails for a moment and looked up at Weasley, letting out a sob. It was more visibly tearing on her and Black, than it was on Lupin or the Weasley boy.

"Bellatrix has always been fucking crazy", Black said fiercely, ignoring Molly's upset gasp.

Severus and Black rarely agreed on something, but they did agree on that. "The Dark Lord will punish her", Severus said distantly. "The question is how hard, because it will reflect his trust and reliance on Potter. If he kills her the others will think it's extreme, and their hatred toward him will grow, but he will show that Potter is now one of his closest people, making him untouchable. But if he gives her a warning or hardly punishes her at all, they might think it's perfectly fine to hurt him", Severus paused and they watched him anxiously, the suffocating silence pressing in on them in the small kitchen. "The question is - who will he choose, one of his most loyal servants or his new, promising ward?"

"But..." Weasley began. "Should we still go ahead with the plan?"

Weasley seemed eager to act, just like the rest of them. But they wouldn't have to wait long, it would happen soon. Hopefully soon enough.

/

"Mum?" the little girl asked and Harry froze, along with the other Death Eaters.

"Evey..."

Her mother was barely conscious, but the name still escaped her lips in a teary moan.

Harry looked between the girl in her pyjamas and her mother, lying on the floor in a shivering pile, still moaning her name, over and over again.

The Death Eater who was in charge of this mission, a dark haired, strong man that Harry had forgotten the name of, was the only one who didn't seem thrown back by her presence.

He turned back to them and mumbled something about them continuing and then he turned back to the girl who was crying quietly now. It seemed unnatural, children were supposed to howl loudly when they cried, face covered in snot, but she was completely silent when she cried, like she knew what was coming, and that it was best that she was quiet when it did.

"Evey?" their leader asked, crouching down in front of her. "Is that your name?"

She nodded and he gave a short, sharp smile, making Harry turn away.

He still heard the whispered words though, they all did. "Well, Evey, you see your mother has been very bad."

She couldn't have been more than 3 or 4 years old, Harry thought as he looked everywhere but at her, eyeing the pictures on the mantelpiece of the big fireplace.

"She's been saying things that aren't true. That's not right, now is it?" he asked and Harry didn't see if she shook her head or nodded or even answered at all.

"R-run, Evey", her mother got out, reaching a shaking hand out, but Evey didn't run, maybe she didn't even hear her mothers strained whisper.

"No, Evey won't run, will she?" he asked in a sweet voice and Harry closed his eyes tightly, just as the flash of green light came.

When Harry woke up the memory of the green was still there, etched in to the back of his eyelids, as real as the pain in his back.

/

The Dark Lord didn't kill Bellatrix, but what he did was worse, to her at least. Besides the torture, he degraded her. She was no longer a part of the inner circle, and she wasn't welcome at most of the meetings.

She was devastated. It made Severus smile whenever he thought about it.

/

They had a mission the afternoon Harry was healed and allowed out of bed. Harry even knew where they were going this time. Diagon Alley.

There were twelve of them that were going, but Harry only remembered the name of Snape, Yaxley, Rookwood, Dolohov and Malfoy, the younger. The others were newbies, new recruits. They didn't seem nervous though, more determined to prove their worth. Not like Malfoy, he looked... Guilty and terrified.

Harry cupped his hands under the running water and brought it up to his face. He glanced up at himself in the mirror, the water dripping from his nose and chin. He looked like his usual pale self.

When he closed his eyes the green was there, behind his eyelids. He snapped his eyes open and looked down at his shaking hands, resting on the sink. It was so real. It always was after that dream. The other dreams were different, they weren't this tangible. For days after the sounds, the smells, the little snapshots of green reflected off of family portraits, came back, crystal clear. Harry splashed some more water in his face and shook his head.

No. He couldn't act like this, not now. He had a job to do. He had to be calm and sharp and able to make fast decisions. Shit.

He focused on the dull pain in his back and his body was the reality now, the bathroom he was in was real, not that living room with the sobbing in the background and the chanting of, "Evey, Evey, Evey...". He breathed, in and out, in and out, and felt the cold porcelain against his palms. That was what was real.

When he finally calmed down and got down to the others, they were waiting for him. All of them threw curious glances his way, before it was time to leave. Then they stood strong and proud, ready to do what was asked of them.

Snape glanced at him, like he knew. Harry didn't want his pity, so he kept his eyes away from him.

They apparated together and when that pressing feeling disappeared they were standing in the middle of Diagon Alley. There was a second, before they were noticed, when it was all normal. The usual bustle of the crowd, families out shopping before the start of school, people from all corners of the world, kids pointing at that new cool broomstick.

But then the panic came. People just stared at first and a few quick thinkers started to inch away. When they cast the first spell, people had started running and screaming. There were no real danger for them, they were just here to cause panic and destroy, but of course they didn't know that.

Harry looked over at someone on his left, he didn't know who, because even if they hadn't been cloaked and masked, he wouldn't have recognised them anyway. He motioned for them to move forward and they did, Harry at the front, casting spells to the left and right, leaving a trail of fire and destruction after them.

And then there were other spells, spells that weren't coming from them. Someone blew up a store window right next to Harry, sending a rain of broken class flying over them. Harry brought his arms up to cover his face, just a blink of an eye before he felt the shards hit his robes.

The newbies panicked, of course. They hadn't suspected a counter attack. There wasn't supposed to be a counter attack.

They scattered, some disapparated, some ran, some started sending hexes blindly into the smoke and clouds of dust.

Shit. Shit. Harry squinted at the dark shapes in the distant and was just barely missed by a stray hex from one of his own.

He had to act now. Now. To his right there was a small, empty store, _Barkers' Books_, it said on a big wooden sign outside. The door was made of thick wood, and there was only one window, facing a smaller back alley. Perfect.

Harry made a dash for it, running between clouds of smoke and fallen bags of abandoned wares, fallen bodies, shard of glass and chips of wood. The sign with _Barkers' Books, _fell right in front of him and missed his head by an inch and he made a shocked halt.

"Harry!" a familiar voice shouted and Harry turned around, his wand ready in his hand.

But it was Snape, accompanied by Yaxley, Malfoy and two others that hadn't panicked or vanished. Harry blasted the door open just in time for them all to dash inside.

The store was old, the dusty smell of books filling the air. It was eerily quiet after the chaos outside.

"Shit!" Harry hissed. "Fuck! How did they know we were here?"

They had no answers for him, so they paced just like him, or leaned against furniture, breathing heavily.

Shit. Shit. They could apparate away, but Harry wasn't sure it was safe. They could have used an Anti-Disapparition Jinx, but Harry had no way to be sure. The others arguing about the same thing were a distant noise to Harry. God, he had to figure something out, to make a decision.

Harry snapped his eyes shut and the green flash was there. No. "It's not real", Harry mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut. "It's not real."

"Evey, Evey, Evey..." echoed through his head and Harry shook his head. No, no, no. Not now.

"Harry?" Snape's voice was closer than Harry had expected and it made him twitch in surprise.

"I know, I know. I have to do something", Harry said and Snape leaned in closer, so close that he could smell him.

Right. Breathe. In and out.

"Harry", Snape's calm voice repeated, and it was softer than Harry expected.

Harry looked over at the others, but they were shouting and couldn't hear what they were saying.

"What?" Harry asked and Snape looked intently at him.

"They're here for you", he said quietly.

Yaxley slammed his hand down on the counter, caught in some far off argument, making Harry snap back to him for a second before Snape caught his eye again.

"What? What do you mean?" Harry asked, and Snape brought a hand up to Harry's face, like he needed for Harry to stay focused.

"The Order is here for you", he said and Harry felt like crying. "No. No, don't look like that or they'll notice", he said and made a small move towards the rest of the Death Eaters.

Harry closed his eyes and this time there were no old memories lurking in the darkness, just a tightening in his stomach and a feel of dreading expectation.

Harry looked at the wall against the street, as if he could see through it, see them.

"Harry, all you have to do is... go outside. They're waiting."

**A/N: **I told you you'd need to vent, didn't I?


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **Yes, since I left such a cruel cliffhanger last time, I decided to update sooner than intended. Anywho, I hope you like this chapter, no warnings for this one, but it's a good chapter!

Oh, and thanks to everyone who reviewed and favourited and put me on their alerts list! You are way too sweet for me. =)

Chapter Ten

Snape looked down at him with his dark eyes and promised, "You can leave with them."

Harry was in a daze. He had to be dreaming again. Some cruel 'rescue' dream. He'd had them before.

Harry looked at the door and then back at Snape. No. It was too easy. Wasn't it? After almost three years, freedom could not be just a few steps away.

Maybe it was a test? A test of his loyalty to the Dark Lord? He thought about the way Snape's lips felt against his own. No, Snape wouldn't do that. He wasn't such a chameleon anymore, not when Harry knew him.

"Are you staying here?" Harry asked, and Snape smiled.

"For a while", Snape said and Harry's eyes strayed to the door again. "Harry, I'll be fine. Just go, all right?"

Snape glanced over to the others again. "Just go. I'll join you in a while."

"Do you promise?" Harry asked, because he wasn't stupid. Snape was capable of lying to him.

"Yes", Snape said, smiling slightly, and Harry looked down at the wand still clutched in his hand so hard that his knuckles had gone white.

Okay. Harry moved slowly at first, and the only one who noticed was Malfoy. He stood by the corner, paler than usual, and met Harry's eyes as Harry made his way to the door. Harry had reached the door and had reached out his left hand to the door knob and he stood like that, frozen, waiting for Malfoy to speak, to yell out to the others. But he never did and Harry swallowed and opened the door and the small store was filled with the sounds of the battle again.

He shut the door behind him and ran, certain that they were coming after him, their wands at the ready, certain that any moment now they were going to hit him with some nasty spell. But they didn't, so he kept running up the street, to where he had last seen them.

A fire had started in one of the stores to his left, flames licking up the facade of the building, leaving behind streaks of black burn marks, but Harry didn't even give it a glance, he didn't even notice it. All that mattered was that he kept running.

And then there was someone else, shouting at him as they ran up next to him. They shouted that he should keep running, that they were almost out of the area with the apparition block. Harry continued, running blindly, faster than he had ever run before.

He tripped and there was that panicky moment when he frantically pushed himself up from the ground, his fingers brushing against something wet, blood or a spilled drink, maybe.

The air swept past him, pulling at his hair, trying to keep him where he was, trying to slow him down, but not even that was enough.

Just as Harry halted at the end of the street, he felt someone grab his arm, just over the elbow, and they both twirled around, leaving the destroyed street behind them.

/

The smell of smoke had disappeared and the air was colder. That was what Harry noticed first, before he opened his eyes. It smelled like damp grass and rain and... Summer.

Harry opened his eyes and squinted in the evening sun, before it all became clear. Hermione, Ron, Sirius, Lupin and Dumbledore. A few others that he didn't know the name of.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, and took a small step forward from Ron's protective arms. Her hair was pulled back in a loose braid, strands of dark, fluffy hair sticking out here and there.

Harry drew a hand through his hair and gave a disbelieving laugh. This was real. He hadn't been sure that it wasn't a dream, until now, but he could never have imagined this.

"Harry?" someone asked again and Harry let himself get wrapped up in someone's arms, Sirius' maybe. Yes, Sirius'. Harry buried his face in his robes, which smelled of soot and fire and sweat, but to Harry, it smelled wonderful. And under all that, there was the familiar smell of Sirius, which reminded Harry of belonging, of love and family.

And then there were other people around him, kissing and hugging, patting his shoulder.

Sirius kept his arm around him the whole time, a reassuring weight on Harry's shoulders, and Harry let himself relax against it, into warmth and safety.

/

Harry slept for what felt like days, but it couldn't possibly have been. It was only one night, but it was a full night without nightmares. He slipped in and out of pleasantly empty darkness, no old or new memories haunting him. When he woke up, he felt more rested than he had in years.

He wasn't alone in the room, some people were talking quietly at the far end of his bed. Harry let his eyes slide shut as he leaned back against the pillow, pretending he was sound asleep as he listened in to their conversation.

He heard Ron's voice hiss with anger and something else, fear maybe. "He should have told us!"

"He did tell us", Hermione's soft voice sounded slightly irritated, like she was explaining something for the umpteenth time and was really loosing her patience.

"He didn't tell us he was _this _bad", Ron continued and was met by silence.

"As much as you want to, you can't blame this on Snape", Hermione said quietly, after a long time.

As they said the name, Harry snapped his eyes open. He hadn't meant to, it just went on automatics. Harry missed him terribly, it was like a big, burning hole in the back of his head.

"Harry", Hermione said, in a near whisper, and they both turned to him.

"Where am I?" Harry asked, since that was the first thing that came into his head. He looked down at them, their friendly faces frowning in concern.

"You're in Sirius' house", Ron said quietly, like he wasn't sure how he was supposed to act. "Grimmauld Place 12 in London."

They'd changed. Ron had grown into a gangly and skinny teenager, with the slight shadow of stubble across his jaw. Hermione had filled out around her hips and chest, making her curvy and more like a woman than before. They had finished that change they'd started the last time Harry'd seen them, now they looked more like young adults than ever before.

Harry smiled, even though he wasn't sure what to do next. If he had to go back to go back to Voldemort at least he had this, his very own memory of them. He would hold on to that.

"Hermione", Ron said and Harry noticed that she'd started crying silently.

"I'm just so..." Hermione started, smiling between her tears. "We're so glad you're here."

Harry gave a weary smile. "I'm glad to be here too."

It didn't seem like it had stuck yet. He tried to repeat it in his head as Hermione hugged him tightly. He could do what he wanted. He could just walk out the door, if he wanted to. It was like really breathing, after having a weight on his chest. Freedom was like breathing fresh air for the first time in a long, _long _time.

Ron smiled apologetically at Harry over Hermione's shoulder, and sat down at the end of the bed.

"It feels like after a Quidditch game", Ron said, his eyes looking from Hermione's shaking form and Harry. "You're all messed up, but we've won, you know? Our team has won."

Harry was barely noticing what he was saying, he was too concentrated on the salty wetness spreading on his shirt, where Hermione's tears had leaked through.

"Sorry", she said in a puff of laughter. "I'm just so glad you're here."

"It's okay", Harry said, but so quietly that he doubted she heard him.

**A/N: **Hope you liked it, and please review and tell me what you think.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **Hi! Thank you all so very much for the nice and helpful reviews! I hope you like this chapter as well!

Chapter Eleven

The humiliation was worse than the pain. Almost. The pain was temporary, but the humiliation, knowing he'd screamed and cried in front of the others, knowing that's what they saw when they looked at him, that would never go away.

Voldemort was furious. Of course he was. He had been betrayed, by Potter's escape and the failure of his servants.

And Severus begged under his rage. He begged for it to stop and in the end it did stop, and he wasn't dead like Rookwood or both of the younger new recruits.

And Severus was alive and left to go home and lick his wounds and wonder how Potter was doing.

/

"Don't! Please!" Charity Burbage whimpered and Rookwood's grin turned feral.

"Draco, would you like to play?" echoed in Harry's head as his eyes flew open.

"Oh, shit. Shit", Harry mumbled and stared out in the dark of his bedroom. The nightmares weren't gone. Of course they weren't. He fumbled with the covers and jumped up, his feet stumbling over each other as he took a few fast steps.

Charity Burbage's plea of "I have family, I have parents!" floated in to Harry's head even though Harry desperately tried to push it out.

No. He didn't have to do that anymore. He didn't have to anymore.

He paced and when that wasn't enough to keep his mind off it, he threw the door open to a brightly lit hall, not really knowing what he was doing. The light was so bright it hurt his eyes, it stung like saltwater, making him blink in confusion. For a second he forgot where he was, but then it came back to him, like warm water flooding his head. Right. Sirius' house, Grimmauld Place 12.

There were voices from downstairs, coming closer, and then there was a 'pop' in front of him and he looked into the freckled face of one of the Weasley twins.

"Harry", he said and Harry just looked at him, slowly lowering his outstretched wand. "Woah. You do not look good."

"Fred or George?" Harry asked, not daring to put his wand away yet.

"Fred", he said and his eyes strayed down to Harry's hand, and his wand, cautiously. "Thought we heard a noise, so they sent me up here."

"Sorry. That was probably me", Harry said and shrugged apologetically. Fred looked like he had in Malfoy's memories, tall, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth, red and unruly hair.

"If you put some clothes on we can go down and see the others", he said and Harry looked down at his naked chest and the bundled up clothes in his arms.

They were new clothes, softer and they fitted better than the ones he'd had before. It was a plain, red T-shirt, a sweater and some dark jeans, that hung loosely from his hips. Someone must have put them out for him, and taken his old clothes away. It was slightly unsettling, being cared for like this.

He followed Fred through the sinister hallway and down the stairs quietly. The house seemed old and almost abandoned, and Harry didn't think it suited Sirius at all. There was something about the house that made Harry's skin crawl.

The kitchen though, was warm and homely and filled with the smell of food, and the chatter of people talking. The sounds and smells of family.

They were having dinner, Harry realised, so it must not have been as late as he thought. Fred jumped right in to the loud group of redheads and some other people that Harry didn't recognise. In the loud noise and busy jumble Harry was left and forgotten by the door. He wondered who they all were, and why they were in Sirius' house. He had understood that the Weasleys lived there, but why were all these other people here? Did it really matter?

It didn't, not really, so Harry just stood and watched them with a small smile, until Sirius saw him, and shouted his name and the others eyes started to flicker towards him.

"Oh, dear!" Mrs Weasley exclaimed, and then everyone's attention was on him. People with their forks raised and people telling jokes or talking loudly turned to look at him in surprise, like Harry had caught them off guard. Like they needed to prepare before they saw him.

Fred looked at Harry in surprise too, he'd apparently forgotten him as well.

"You must be hungry, dear, sleeping all day and night like that", Mrs Weasley said and Harry turned to her with a smile.

"I am, actually."

"Well", she said and stared some more, until Sirius took the lead again, and then she started banging with pots and pans

"This is the Order of the Phoenix", Sirius said proudly as he came up behind Harry, putting his hands on Harry's shoulders.

Lupin was there, his arm around a girl with bright purple hair, and he smiled a pale smile when he caught Harry's eyes. Five or six others too, plus the Weasley family, Hermione and Sirius. It seemed like the kitchen shouldn't be able to fit all of them, but it did, and it didn't seem crammed, just cosy and warm.

"So you're the good Death Eaters?" Harry asked and received uncomfortable coughs and averted eyes.

No one answered his question, so he assumed they were. They talked about the Order for much longer than they had to and Harry listened with polite interest, even though he really didn't want to know half of it.

No one was asking him how he was, Harry noticed, maybe that was because they didn't really want to know? Snape had apparently been telling them how he was doing, so maybe they knew enough?

How much had he told them? Harry doubted he'd told them about the kissing, that would have been a breach of confidence. Harry wasn't sure how he felt about this, Snape telling them what Harry did.

He looked over at Sirius, who was talking with a dark skinned, bald man, gesturing and laughing. How had he reacted when Snape told him about the things Harry had done? The torturing and killing, did they know about that?

People started to disappear off to the upper floors, off to bed, and others disapparated home and the laughter and talk ebbed out. Other people started arriving, and Harry knew that the dinner had turned into a meeting, a meeting for only the people who had to be there.

No one asked Harry to leave, even though the other children had been sent off to bed, so he stayed in his seat by the end of the table. Sirius, Dumbledore, Lupin, McGonagall and Harry were the only ones left at the table, and no one seemed to want to talk, leaving them in a cold and dead silence.

And then Snape arrived, striding elegantly in through the door and Harry let his eyes wander over to him. No one said hello or greeted him with anything other than small nods or head inclinations.

He looked up at Harry, for once, and Harry smiled a thin smile. They were the same now, in a way.

"Black sheep", Harry mumbled and Lupin, who sat closest to him looked up questioningly.

"Did you say something?" he asked and Harry shook his head slowly.

Snape slid into a chair, a carefully passive look on his face, now ignoring Harry completely.

It was a comforting sight. Snape was _still _the same, even though Harry had changed sides again.

Harry sat still and quiet as they talked, looking interested when his name was mentioned, but really just being somewhere else.

He was supposed to be happy, wasn't he? Happy that he was safe? Safe, Harry laughed. There was a difference between being safe and feeling safe.

He wasn't happy. He was angry and sad and... Extremely tired. He just wanted to crawl up somewhere, preferably with Snape, and just disappear into nothing. Nothing would be nice. Nothing wasn't being afraid or being disgusted of your actions or being unexplainably angry with your friends. Nothing wasn't even this sad emptiness that filled Harry up sometimes, when he should be feeling things.

"Harry?" someone asked and Harry knew he had missed something. They were all looking at him, most of them smiling kindly and carefully at him.

"Sorry?" Harry said, and straightened up.

Sirius leaned forward and enveloped him in a tight, warm hug. "I just can't believe you're here."

I would have been here faster if you had come and gotten me sooner. It echoed through Harry's head and it wasn't till Sirius leaned back and shot him a worried look he realised he'd actually said it.

"I'm so sorry, Harry", Sirius mumbled and Harry felt ashamed for hurting him.

Sirius' arms fell away from him and he looked down at his feet.

"We didn't deem it safe, Harry", Dumbledore said, his blue eyes weary. "We didn't want to risk the others' safety."

"Those reasons aren't good enough", Harry growled angrily.

He was supposed to be thankful, but the anger was bubbling up to the surface violently. How could they just have left him there?

"Harry..." Sirius said, unsure of what to say next, just wanting to comfort him.

No. No, it was their fault that he was like this. That he was the sort of person who scared people. It was their fault that he'd had to do all those things.

Harry shrugged off Sirius' helping hands, shrugging off all his sympathetic words, backing away from them.

"I know this is-" Lupin began, trying to calm him, like he was some dangerous animal about to escape or hurt someone.

"You know _what?_" Harry asked, almost shouting now. "You don't..."

He cut himself off, bringing his hands up to his hair, nervously repeating that flattening motion that wasn't really necessary now that his hair was longer.

"Harry?" His voice was smooth and calm, and it didn't have that fake soothing tones the others had.

Harry looked up into Snape's eyes, and watched his raised out hand as it grabbed Harry's wrist, making Harry lower his wand. When had he raised his wand?

Harry looked at the hand holding his hand in a firm grip, still it wasn't hurting.

Harry slowly wrenched his hand out from Snape's hand, making sure they knew he wasn't going to attack them or do something else stupid.

Harry couldn't bring himself to opening his mouth and say sorry, but he suspected that they knew he was sorry.

Sirius pushed Snape out of the way, Snape letting out a small dissatisfied noise, and then Sirius looked at Harry hesitantly.

"I'm sorry", he said, and Harry knew that he was.

Harry managed a small smile, and then he pushed past them, slowly, feeling their stares in the back of his head as he made his way back up to the bedroom.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: **This chapter is tricky, because I absolutely love it and then there are these small little details that annoy me, that make me want to rewrite the whole thing. But anyway, I didn't want to make you wait because I hadn't found the exact right synonym for some word that people probably don't even notice... So I hope you like it and, as always, review!

Chapter Twelve

Black glared at him as Potter walked out of the room, seemingly calm again. Was he jealous, maybe? Jealous of the fact that when he told Potter to calm, he did?

Black looked like he wanted to yell at someone, possibly Severus, but before he managed to do that Albus spoke.

"This has been hard on him", he said, and Severus snorted. Understatement, maybe?

Then he said something about how good it was that Severus had experienced similar things. Similar things? Severus had chosen this for himself. He had been an idiot, a powerhungry idiot, and this was what he got. Potter hadn't seen any other choice. So that was not the same.

But Severus knew that Albus was saying that Severus should talk to him, in his own annoying way. He was giving him permission to go up there, and Severus knew no one would argue about that now.

"It's clear that he needs help", Albus said, his voice even.

"Why didn't you tell us he was like this? That it was this bad?" Black asked, Severus' eyes darting to the wand in his hard grip.

"How did you think it was going to be? Did you think he was going to just be fine?" Severus said quietly. They all felt so sorry for Harry, but none of them understood, did they?

Black stepped closer, but Lupin put a hand on his shoulder to stop him from doing something Severus would make sure he'd regret.

"Of course we knew he was going to... Be having troubles. It's going to take time", Lupin said and he was right.

"I'll talk to him", Severus said and waited, because he almost wanted someone to stop him.

But no one did, they all just sat quietly, the mood even more down than before they had rescued him.

Potter was upstairs, in the room they had stuffed him in. It was amazing he could fit with all the Weasleys crammed in the house.

"Are they angry?" he asked, not turning to face Severus.

"No", Severus said and Potter finally glanced at him.

"Do they think I'm crazy?" he asked, and Severus sat on his bed, thinking about it.

"I don't think so", he said, realising that telling the truth was the only real option. "But they know you're not... All right."

"Wouldn't it be easier if they thought I was crazy?" he said distantly, his eyes not focusing on anything. "Then they would expect me to act crazy, like this."

"You didn't act crazy", Severus said, looking up at Potter who was very close now, from his seat on the bed.

"I pulled my wand on them", Harry said, smiling slightly at Severus' bad attempt at comforting him.

"That was maybe slightly... Unstable behaviour", he said, not minding Harry's hands caressing his cheek, moving up to tangle in his hair.

"Unstable behaviour", he repeated, meeting Severus' eyes.

Severus wrapped his arms around Harry's waist, leaning his head softly against his stomach, locking them together in some sort of half sitting and half standing embrace.

He had known this would happen. They would be left alone and Potter would cling to him and he would cling to Potter and he would push everything else out of his head, push out Voldemort and Black and Albus and everything and everyone else.

But right then, his forehead moving softly as Potter inhaled, his hands resting on Potter's waist, sliding up under his shirt, he didn't care that he shouldn't be doing that. It didn't matter, not right now, at least.

/

He kissed him and Harry closed his eyes, letting himself get pulled down on the bed, their legs tangling, Harry landing on top of Snape.

"We won't do anything you'll regret", Snape said after pulling away and Harry wanted to tell him that he'd never regret anything they'd do, but the words wouldn't come out. Instead he pressed closer against Snape, snuggling up against his warmth.

"Are you all right?" he asked and Harry opened his eyes again.

"I don't know", Harry answered. There was a lot he was unsure of right now. "I... I know I should, I don't know, want to kill myself every second, but I don't. And for that I feel terrible. I feel terrible for not being grateful for their help, I feel terrible for the things I've done, the people I couldn't help, but most of all I feel terrible for not feeling terrible enough. I should... Why don't I feel worse? Is there something wrong with me?"

"No, no, there's nothing wrong with you. Of course there's nothing wrong with you", Snape answered after a long moment of silence. Harry suspected that he was just trying to cheer him up. But it was sweet anyway.

Snape's hand stroked up the side of Harry's back, making soft circles that made Harry shiver.

"I like this", Harry said, and he knew Snape was smiling.

"Me too", he murmured quietly and his hand stilled.

Harry had thought about this. He had known for a while that he liked men more than women. Well, he'd known that he found Cedric to be more exciting than Cho. He had imagined kissing him, dreaming off during class. Even though he knew that Cedric didn't fancy him and even if that would be the case, never would admit it.

His immature crush on Cedric Diggory was probably the reason that he had run off to save him. But this was different. He was grown up now. This with Snape wasn't just that Harry liked how his hair fell in his eyes or how he laughed. This was real, it wasn't just admiration or a dumb infatuation.

"Harry", Snape said seriously. "I... I don't think this is a good idea."

Harry shook his head. No. Maybe this wasn't a good idea. "But that doesn't matter, now does it? It is what it is."

Snape scooted down a bit so that they were face to face. "I can't risk Black or Albus finding out about this. It would... They would be very angry", he said, as if Harry was a kid or something. "And what if... What if he found out?"

"He wouldn't care", Harry said, and Snape shook his head.

"How can you know that?"

"He doesn't see love and sex like that", Harry said and watched how Snape averted his eyes at the word, 'sex'. "For him sex is just something animalistic. Between a man and a woman it is a way to procreate and between two men it's... A way to manipulate other people. It's nothing more than a hobby or some need that you can learn to control."

"You see. He uses it to manipulate. He could use it to hurt you. Or me", Snape added, and his dark eyes drilled into Harry's.

"No one has to know", Harry said and then added in a whisper, "You can't leave too."

Snape kissed him again. "No, no. I'm sorry. I won't leave", he promised, kissing a trail up Harry's jaw.

Harry smiled and Snape leaned away, pulling Harry closer, even though he already was as close as possible.

They stayed like that, until Snape broke the silence, with a quiet, "So what is this? To you?"

"I don't know", Harry whispered and smiled. "Security, safety..." Harry thought about the ball of thrill in his stomach and Snape's warm hands on his skin. "Anticipation and pleasure."

"Love?" Snape asked after a long time, looking down at his hand that was stroking up Harry's leg.

"Yeah. Yeah, love."


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: **Very sorry about the delay but I had some tweaking to do on this chapter. Plus, my routines got a little messed up since I got a week off. But I'm updating now, and I hope you'll like it. And thank you all for the helpful reviews and favourites and alerts!

Chapter Thirteen

He came to Harry in a dream. He couldn't remember what he had dreamt before that, but suddenly the Dark Lord was talking to him. Harry could see his face in front of him as he spoke, his voice the only thing heard through the silence.

And he couldn't turn away. He couldn't ignore the accusations, the promises of punishment, the rage filled words that he hissed out at him. And he couldn't make them disappear from his memory, not even after he had woken up, after the sun came up and he didn't have to sit in the darkness anymore. _He couldn't get his voice out of his head._

He went through the days as normal. He would eat his breakfast while Mrs Weasley watched him, making small concerned remarks about his physical health. And then Ron and Hermione would be up and he would talk to them. Not about anything important, just Quidditch teams and what had happened to people he used to know. They didn't breach the subject of Cedric or Snape, but Harry suspected that would come later.

And then he would wander around in the house. It was similar to before. No one had told him he wasn't supposed to go outside, but it was implied. Harry understood. There were a lot of people looking for him right now, and they didn't have his best in mind.

But then when it was time to sleep, after the occasional Order meeting, after the awkward dinner where Sirius tried to make Harry smile, he would just lie awake in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Because if he closed his eyes, he knew the Dark Lord would be there, just waiting for him. That darkness was always there, just waiting for him.

He didn't get much sleep.

/

Severus was worried. The others weren't. He thought that the fact that there had been so little trouble so far was a bad sign, and they didn't. He suspected that if something was bothering Potter, he wouldn't talk to them about it.

Severus rarely talked about that other life, but he expected Potter to. Was that unfair? But Severus wasn't... Severus knew how to deal with things like that. And if he didn't, there weren't a lot of people who would miss him. People depended on Harry.

But Harry depended on Severus, didn't he?

Severus looked over at Potter who had that distant look in his eyes, the one that made Severus want to run up and shake him until he focused. It wasn't good to dream off like that. The thoughts of what Harry could daydream about made Severus' gut clench.

/

Hermione followed Snape with her eyes as he quietly snuck out of the room, to be followed shortly by Harry. They were both people who faded into the background, well, if they wanted to. Anyway, no one seemed to notice, or they just ignored it.

Hermione didn't think they suspected that anyone knew. Knew about those looks they gave each other, or how they whispered quietly to each other when they thought no one was listening. But Hermione listened. It was obvious if you knew what you were looking for. She had told Ron, and they had both agreed that Harry was free to do what he wanted. She didn't think that it was going to worsen things. And she had seen how Snape had comforted him that time when Harry had freaked. Snape seemed healthy for him.

Dumbledore surely knew, and Hermione knew that the others at least suspected as well. How couldn't they? But it was one of those things they all chose to ignore, even Sirius if he was aware of it. Because maybe this was part of the new Harry, the one she loved just as much as the old one. If he had to be with Snape to cope, he would be with Snape.

And Harry had taken the news about her and Ron with happiness, why shouldn't she accept this new strange relationship with Snape?

Hermione could understand it, Snape was handsome if you looked closely and moderately nice and he had offered some support in a depressing time. But even if she couldn't understand it, it didn't matter. She didn't have to understand it, only Snape and Harry had to do that.

/

Harry smiled. "You're serious?"

"Sure", Sirius said and smiled back. "Just grab your broom. It's been waiting for you."

Sirius reached Harry's broom out to him and Harry looked down at it before taking it in his hand, feeling the smooth wood against his palm, feeling the weight of it. God, it had been so long since he had ridden a broom. Voldemort hadn't seen the point and Harry hadn't asked for it, why should he have?

And here his old broom was. Harry couldn't even remember the last time he had seen it.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked as he trailed behind Sirius' excited steps.

"There's a patch of grass just out the back", he said, pointing vaguely in the direction they were walking. "I used to fly there when I was a kid."

Right. Sirius' family had lived here. "Were your parents dark wizards?"

They were outside now, and Harry squinted up at the bit of cloudy sky that could be seen between the tall houses as he talked. So did Sirius before he answered.

"Yes, they were. The Blacks have been Slytherins for decades. Except the odd few, who were disowned and exiled", he said with a small smile.

"I didn't know that", Harry said and his hand ran up and down the shaft of the broom eagerly. Now after so much time, he couldn't wait to kick off from the ground.

"Yeah, I should show you the family tree", he said and then waved his wand, summoning his own broom and the Quaffle.

Harry knew that Bellatrix and the Malfoys were distantly related to Sirius. They were sisters, Narcissa and Bellatrix, and before they had married, they had been named Black. There was a third sister, Harry thought, but he couldn't remember her name.

But it didn't matter now, since Sirius was already in the air, circling the small yard squeezed in between the tall buildings.

And Harry straddled his broom, took a deep breath, and kicked off.

He had forgotten how fast the Firebolt could go, so when he whooshed up in the between the brick walls, he almost fell off it. But then it steadied up and he looked down towards Sirius.

"Okay. Game on", he shouted and he could see Sirius' face brighten in a smile, even from that distance.

It was pure freedom. He could ignore the fact that if he flew too high there were probably barriers to stop him, and if he did that and only focused on the air running through his hair and the feel of falling when he dove, and the tingling in his stomach as he raced past Sirius, it was wonderful. He felt free and energetic and... happy.

With a laugh Harry threw the Quaffle over to Sirius who threw it through one of the improvised, levitating goal hoops.

"Score!" he shouted and Harry caught the Quaffle in mid air, slowly sinking down to the ground. They had been out for hours now, and Harry could feel the soreness beginning in his lower back.

"You won, Sirius", he shouted at the slowly dropping Sirius.

"Good game", he said and Harry smiled back at him, dropping his broom on the ground.

"God, I'm so warm", he mumbled, and started pulling his sweatshirt over his head before he hesitated.

"What?" Sirius looked up when Harry silenced.

"I, um..." Harry mumbled and righted his shirt.

"What is it?" Sirius sounded worried.

"I forgot that I had it", Harry said and glanced down at his arm. It took Sirius a few seconds to understand that he meant the Dark Mark.

"Oh", he said and his hand dropped to his side. "Well..."

Why did he have to feel like this? Why did he have to hide things? Why did he have to feel bad for something he couldn't have done anything about?

"Harry, you don't have to... feel ashamed because of that", Sirius said and Harry kept his eyes on the ground. Of course he had to feel ashamed because of that. It was living proof of what he was, what he had done.

"You're right", Harry said instead of uttering any of the dark things mulling around in his head. He smiled. "Now, let's go inside, okay?"

/

Harry's mind drifted off again as he sat through the dreary meeting. At least Voldemort's meetings were exciting, Harry thought with a glimmer of dark humour.

He looked over at Snape, who seemed to think that it was as boring as Harry did, and smiled and got a small smirk in return.

And then he looked down at his hands again, and concentrated on listening to what they were saying. Something about coverage of the Ministry.

"He hasn't taken the ministry yet", Harry said and they all looked at him. "He's planning to though."

They seemed to be unsure whether Harry should be allowed to be a part of the conversation.

"You should ask me. I know him, I know what he might do", Harry continued and Hermione gave a bleak smile, always the optimist.

"That's actually a good idea", she said. "We should use this information. You must know lots of things we only could have guessed us to before."

"Exactly", Harry said and Sirius leaned forward.

"But are you sure-" he started, but Harry interrupted him.

"Just because something bad happened doesn't mean that we have to ignore that completely. I mean, use me", Harry continued and Snape looked like he was just about to say something, and not something in Harry's favour. "I want to do something", Harry said. "I want to fight."

Was that true? Voldemort had treated him... Nicely. Almost. He had respected him, taught him. Could Harry just switch sides like this? But had he ever been on a different side than this one, the light one?

And Voldemort would punish him harsher if he had cooperated. Where had that thought come from? He couldn't be punished by Voldemort, because he wouldn't give Voldemort a chance. He would never do something as stupid as sacrifice himself like that again. The cost was too grave.

**A/N: **I thought long and hard about keeping the Quidditch scene, and I finally decided to let it stay right there. I know it doesn't really bring the story forward, but I just wanted to show some everyday life and frankly I think Harry deserved a bit of fun. And the whole Dark Mark thing was hard to squeeze in anywhere else. Hope you liked it and please send me a review!


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

The dreams didn't stop and Harry wasn't sure if they really were just dreams anymore. They were so real.

He could remember them vividly after he'd woken up. He would be in the middle of a nightmare or something like that - he wouldn't lie to himself and say that he had any other kinds of dreams - and then Voldemort would come and just shove everything aside and he would talk to him, whisper lies to him. That's what Harry told himself after he woke up anyway, that they were lies.

It even went so far that Harry stopped trying to sleep. He would lie in bed until the house had stilled and everyone had fallen asleep and then he would get up and wander. He had taken Sirius' advise and had spent a lot of hours studying the Black Family Tree. And he would visit the library, full of old and dark books. He read some of them, not that much stuck. It was just a way to get distracted until morning came and he could pretend he'd had a good night's sleep.

He didn't think anyone noticed. Well, Snape seemed to notice of course. He chose to confront Harry one night when the others were talking about something uninteresting, like the guard schedule at the Ministry.

"Are you doing well?" he asked quietly and Harry nodded with irritation.

"Sure", he said and Snape didn't seem convinced.

"Are you sleeping well?" he asked. How did he know just what to ask?

"Yes, I'm sleeping well", Harry said, raising his voice maybe slightly, turning a few heads.

"Don't lie to me", Snape said and Harry almost cried. He wanted to tell him about the dreams so badly, but he couldn't, he just couldn't. Somehow talking about it made it worse, like if he just kept it to himself he could ignore it.

"I'm not lying to you", Harry said coldly, barely registering that the room had gone quiet.

"Harry. Please, tell me if-"

"He said he's fine. Don't push it, Snivellus", Sirius interrupted, breaking that poor illusion of a private conversation.

Snape ignored him and set his eyes on Harry. "So there are no nightmares? They just disappeared overnight? You're saying you don't wake up covered in sweat and shaking like-"

"Shut up", Harry said harshly and turned his eyes to the table. "Just shut up. I'm handling it."

Snape let out a frustrated sigh. "Don't do that. You can't keep this to yourself."

"I don't want to talk about it", Harry growled.

"You have to talk about it!" Snape said and before he was finished talking Harry had begun shouting, "No, I don't!"

Harry put his head in his hands and listened as Sirius shouted at Snape for upsetting him.

"I..." Harry said and they fell silent. He could almost feel their eyes burning into him.

"Please", Snape whispered in Harry's ear and Harry looked up, knowing he looked miserable.

"What's wrong?" Sirius asked when he saw his face and the tears.

"I can handle the nightmares but... But it's him. He talks to me. They're not dreams, I know that, they're something else", Harry said and they - Hermione, Ron, Lupin, Snape, Sirius, Mad-Eye Moody and Mr and Mrs Weasley - all looked at him with worried faces.

"What does he say?" Hermione asked logically, her voice low but steady.

"He tells me not to trust you, to turn to him instead. He says I'll be rewarded. He tells me not to talk to you about the fact that he's contacted me", Harry said and realised that that may have been part of the reason why he hadn't wanted to talk about it. "He says you don't love me, that you're using me."

They were scary, those dreams. Voldemort could see into his head, into every dark corner, all of his wishes and his fears.

"He says you're all going to leave me", Harry said and he was aware of how pathetic he sounded.

"We would never do that", Ron said and they all nodded, except Moody who just looked at him thoughtfully.

"We should talk to Albus", Mrs Weasley said, but no one paid her any mind and she didn't repeat herself.

"How do you know it's not a dream?" Mad-Eye asked and Harry turned to look at him.

"It could be a dream. But it's not mine. I know it's not mine", Harry said and the older wizard just kept looking at him, an unreadable look on his face.

/

"Is that possible? Contacting someone in their sleep?" Granger asked.

"Why wouldn't it be?" Severus asked. "It's mostly unheard of, but definitely possible if you're powerful enough."

"I do think someone needs to floo Dumbledore", Granger continued and bit her lip, an annoying nervous habit.

Mrs Weasley nodded at someone sharing her opinion and then she went off to another room to probably contact the Headmaster.

"I'm so tired", Potter whispered to him and he wanted so badly to hold him and make everything okay that he couldn't stop himself. He pulled him closer and let him rest his head on his shoulder. So much for giving him a chance without Severus. This wouldn't make things easier for him, he knew that, and he hated himself for it.

No one commented on their embrace, even though Black looked murderous, and Severus found that strange. He had definitely expected a more fiery reaction. They could have done something worse, he supposed. This was just an innocent hug, if he had kissed him maybe they had reacted differently, jumped him or yelled at him. A part of Severus actually wanted someone to do just that. He felt like he deserved shouting and arguments, he felt like he was using Harry or taking advantage of the fact that he wasn't really at his best at the moment. Because surely he didn't deserve to have someone confide in him like that, surely he didn't deserve that warm body leaning into his own?

Maybe he did. The simple idea that snuck into his head almost unnoticed. Maybe he could take this as a reward for a lifetime of getting treated like shit, or always getting chosen second. Yes, maybe.

Molly Weasley walked in with her head bowed and just glanced at the two of them, managing a weak smile. "He should be here soon", she said and sat down next to her husband.

And then they sat and waited, like little helpless children that couldn't make any decisions on their own. Not that consulting Albus wasn't a good idea, it certainly was, but the waiting made Severus feel useless.

No one talked, except for the occasional murmur between Granger and her Weasley and even those quiet conversations died out after a while. They sat in an, almost deafening, silence until he arrived. He didn't look at all like he had been getting ready for bed, his hair wasn't tousled, his robes were neat and colourful as usual. Severus didn't know if he ever slept, it didn't seem like it.

"Good evening", he greeted and after he had said no thank you to a sandwich or a cup of tea he sat down at the end of the table.

"Are you sure you don't want anything?" Mrs Weasley asked again and Albus shook his head with a smile.

"As much as I love your ham sandwiches I would really like to know why I was summoned. At this hour as well", he questioned and looked around the serious faces.

"You-Know-Who has tried to contact Harry", Granger said and Dumbledore's mild smile turned serious.

"How?" he asked and Harry shifted in Severus' grip, and Severus bent down to his ear.

"Do you want to tell him? You don't have to. The others can explain", he asked so quietly that only Harry heard him.

/

Harry pushed himself up and away from Snape's warm chest, but stayed close even if he wasn't leaning on him anymore.

"No. I can talk", Harry said and Snape gave a little nod.

Dumbledore looked at him, waiting for an answer, his face serious. Harry couldn't understand how he had been able to forget those piercing, blue eyes. "Harry?"

"He came to me in a dream. I don't know how he did it. Does it", he corrected himself and Dumbledore kept looking at him, almost until Harry became uncomfortable but then he looked away.

"That can't be", he said and Harry couldn't look away from him. There was something wrong with the way he reacted.

"Why can't that be?" Harry asked and the others looked over at him when the coldness in his voice registered.

"Harry, I think we should talk", he said and the 'alone' was implied. Harry kept his hand clutched in Snape's robes as the others left and he stayed. Dumbledore didn't comment on it, he pretended it was completely normal, and maybe it was.

Dumbledore hesitated before he spoke, and when he did he sounded sad. "Harry, I think there is a connection between you and Voldemort."

Harry shook his head. "I don't understand."

Dumbledore took a deep breath. "The night your parents died... The night Voldemort cast the killing curse on you", he began and his eyes never left Harry's face. It made him nervous, because it was exactly what the Dark Lord did. "When you sent the spell back to him and he, let us say died or something similar, he left a part of himself behind."

What? He meant that...?

"What?" Snape asked, sounding almost shocked, and Harry's looked at his hand that was fisted around a large chunk of black fabric, a large piece of the front of Snape's shirt.

"Voldemort tore his soul apart when he killed your parents and attempted to kill you", Dumbledore said in the quiet of the abandoned kitchen. "And a part of him lingered, stayed there, caught on to you."

"He's in me?" Harry asked and the other meaning of the sentence didn't even strike him. He wanted to claw at himself, to claw the piece of that disgusting creature out of him. It couldn't be true, it just couldn't.

"You shouldn't think of it like that", Dumbledore said and Harry could tell that he was hurting because he was the one who was forced to deliver these news to Harry. He wasn't allowed to hurt! _Harry_ was hurting. Harry was the one who had a part of _him_ inside him!

He needed to shout at someone, he needed to scream, but he just couldn't. The scream just stopped, it just sunk back in his body along with the hate and the self loathing and the pain.

Harry loosened the hand in Snape's robes and let it fall down limply in his lap. "How come you didn't tell me this until now?" Harry asked and looked into Dumbledore's soft eyes.

"I was wrong in not telling you about this. You were too young at first and... You grew up before I knew it", he said, sounding pathetic in Harry's ears.

He was too young? Dumbledore decided to keep something from Harry, something about him, something about who he was, from him because he thought he was too young? "That wasn't your decision to make", Harry said and Dumbledore nodded.

"You're right. And I am very sorry for that", he said quietly and calmly.

"How could you do that?", Harry asked coldly. "How could you lie? But you didn't lie, did you? You just didn't tell me the whole truth. Does that make it okay?"

When Dumbledore didn't answer Harry stood up and left.

**A/N: **Long wait for an update, i know, but Fanfiction . n et had some sort of stroke and wouldn't let me post chapters. Not my fault, I tried, dears, I tried. Hope you liked it anyway! I wrote Moody kind of more suspicious against Harry than the others, he seemed like he would react like that. I mean, he is very fast to judge anything dark, and Harry is of course kind of dark right now.

More angst, again, but they needed to bring this up… And I know how Dumbles seems right now, but he does mean well. I don't do Dumbledore bashing. He's a leader, and as a leader you make hard decisions, decisions that everyone might not agree with. I'm not saying he's perfect, but I'm just saying that he deserves some of our patience.

Review, please, and tell me what you think!


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: **Well, then. New chapter, some smut in this one. Hope you like it. :)

Chapter Fifteen

Severus sat in the silence, not wanting to leave, but not really wanting to stay either.

"I don't understand", Severus said quietly, but didn't look up. He didn't want to look up and for once he didn't force himself to do anything he didn't want to do.

"You know I couldn't have told him", Albus Dumbledore said, and still Severus didn't look up. "He was a child. He didn't need to know that he-"

"I understand that. I don't understand how it could happen", he said. He couldn't remember the last time he had interrupted Dumbledore. The man was an incredible wizard, he had taken Severus in when he had needed it, and treated him better through the years than most other would have done. Severus usually respected him, very much, but right now all he could remember was Harry's hand dropping heavily in his lap, all he could feel was his despair.

"I should speak to Harry about this first, but you can sit in then as well. He seems calmer with you", he said and Severus mustered up a glance.

"That was not what we were discussing", he said, his voice harder than he'd meant to.

"I trust you", he said after a small pause and Severus knew it was both a warning and a blessing.

He nodded.

Hours later, in the bathroom adjacent to Harry's room, Harry stared at himself in the mirror and pushed his wet hair out of his face. He was afraid to go lie down, because he was afraid to fall asleep again. Because he was afraid of him.

He stared into his eyes, as if he could see him there, see him like a black splotch in the green. He wished he could cut him out of himself, just cut a piece away, like a tumour. He wished he was just a piece of flesh, easily removed. But no, he was in his mind and in his brain. Even if that part he left after him the night his parents died disappeared, even if he could remove that, Harry would still have his own memories of him. He would still be a part of who Harry was, just like everyone else who had had an impact on him.

He felt dirty. He felt disgusting. But he also knew that that feeling wouldn't go away even if he scrubbed himself raw. He'd tried though. He'd spent the night in the bathroom, standing under the almost scorchingly hot water he'd gone numb. Sweetly, pleasantly numb.

He fingered the scissor in his hand, and when he looked back up, the mirror had fogged up again. He couldn't cut Voldemort out of him, he thought as he brought the scissor up to a strand of black hair, but he could do something else.

He let the hair fall down to the floor and then grabbed a new lock and cut it off. He liked the sound of the scissors as it clamped together on the wet hair, a metallic, hard sound.

He did it again, and again until his hair had gone from hanging down along his shoulder to something similar to his old haircut, the one he'd had _before. _It was shorter, and it was slightly more uneven than before, but it was something similar.

"Harry?" The voice came from behind him, hesitantly. It was Ron's voice.

"Yes?" Harry said and turned around.

He had walked past them, all of the younger Weasleys and Hermione, in the staircase. They had looked scared and shocked. They had heard, they had listened through one of the twins little handy ears.

"Harry, are you all right?" he asked, and wiped out any doubt about having heard Harry's conversation with Dumbledore.

"No", Harry mumbled. "But I'm better now."

Without warning Ron hugged him and then gave him an awkward, manly, pat on the back.

"If you're going to eavesdrop you might as well sit in next time we talk", Harry said and Ron gave a small smile.

"Yeah, sorry", he said and Harry pushed past him to his bed. "Can I stay, or are you...?"

Harry turned around, still smiling. "Of course you can."

And he stayed and they talked. About their life now, about Ron and Hermione and what had happened since Harry had left. They both sat on Harry's bed, Harry leaning against the headboard and Ron leaning against one of the tall bedposts.

"What was it like? With... With him?" Ron asked after they had exhausted every other subject. They had managed to stay away from Harry's time with Voldemort for a while, but they couldn't avoid it forever.

"It wasn't... It was bad at first. They kept me in the cellar, where they kept all the prisoners. I had my own little", Harry searched his mind for something that could describe the dirty, cold room they kept him in, "cell. But after I had stopped fighting them and... Anyway, after a while I moved up to a room in the upper floor."

Ron looked at him seriously, while he fingered the hem of his T-shirt. Harry looked down at his lap. "I did fight at first. I want you to know that. I didn't give in that easily. But..."

Harry thought about the lack of food and water and the continuous pain and humiliation. The silent, empty hours alone in dread of the next visit from the Death Eaters. That had almost been worse, the times he was left alone with his thoughts.

"We tried to get you out of there", Ron said quietly. "Sirius hardly ate or slept the first months, he just sat up hours after hours trying to make up the perfect plan. But after a few tries, after we lost Mundungus, we had to realise that they had you under too close supervision. I'm sorry, Harry."

Harry smiled at Ron's sweet intentions. "That's okay. They weren't bad to me. Not after I'd learned how to behave. They fed me, they didn't hurt me, I had clothes and a warm place to sleep."

Ron nodded, but looked doubtful. He was right, it hadn't been exactly like that, but Harry didn't have to worry Ron. It wouldn't help to tell him.

"Did you know, before Dumbledore told you?" Ron asked.

About sharing a body with Voldemort? "No. I didn't. I still don't quite understand."

"I think he'll come back to talk to you again. He has to, he can't just leave it like that", Ron said, angry on Harry's behalf.

"You're right", Harry said.

"Do you feel different now?" Ron asked.

Yes. He felt different. There was a dark tangle of emotions deep in his stomach that he couldn't even begin to unwind.

"Not very", Harry lied and managed a tired smile.

"By the way", Ron said, as if he could tell that they needed to change the subject again. It was good that they took the serious talk in small portions. "Sirius and Lupin were talking about you starting school again. They told me to talk to you about it."

"I don't want to", Harry said. He didn't feel like he had anymore to learn. He knew all he had to, probably more. The Dark Lord valued education. "I could just take my OWLs and NEWTs without going back to school, right?"

"Yeah, that would be good", Ron said and started to scramble up from the bed. "You know, if you want to work somewhere after this."

Harry almost laughed out loud. He couldn't imagine anything 'after this'. What could he work as? An Auror? Putting away people he'd fought beside? No.

"I like the new hair", Ron said and disappeared out the door.

Harry was left alone and actually managed to get some real sleep. He woke up late in the afternoon. He'd felt someone's eyes on him even in sleep and, true enough, Sirius was sitting in the chair in Harry's room.

"I didn't want to wake you", he said as he leaned forward.

"Thanks", Harry said and gave a loud yawn. He loved doing things like that, it seemed so normal.

Sirius seemed to like him doing things like that too, because he gave a big smile. "Are you okay, Harry?"

Harry frowned. "Yeah, sure."

"Because you don't have to be afraid to tell me anything", he said, and leaned forward.

"I know", Harry said quietly and relaxed against the pillows.

Sirius put his larger hand over Harry's hand and squeezed. "Do you want me to sit here while you sleep?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I could sleep better with you here."

Sirius' hand lingered and Harry looked over at it. "Can I have my hand back?" he asked, a little laugh in his voice.

Sirius wasn't smiling and now Harry couldn't see what was funny either.

"Sirius?" Harry let the name out in a quiet puff of air.

Sirius didn't meet his eyes, he just looked down at Harry's hand in his own hard grip. It was starting to hurt now and Harry could feel a small panic starting in the pit of his stomach.

Sirius let his hand wander up Harry's arm. "What are you doing?" Harry asked and this time he did look up.

"You're not at all like James anymore", he said, and there was something strange in his voice. "But I like you even better now."

Harry couldn't remember that he'd seen him move, but suddenly he was pinning Harry down on the bed, pressing his wrists hard against the headboard.

"No", Harry managed, but it only came out as a small sob.

Sirius looked down at him and smiled.

"Harry?"

The person who spoke wasn't Sirius, it sounded like Ron. Harry looked around to try to see him, but there was just the two of them in the room.

"Harry!"

The room seemed to sway, like Harry was about to faint or loose consciousness. The hands that tied him to the bed seemed to fade, not disappear completely, because he could still feel them, and it was still impossible to get away. The thing, that was supposed to be Sirius but was slightly wrong in some way, gave a noise of frustration and was gone, just gone, and Harry drifted from the room and opened his eyes to a room just like it, but empty this time, except for Ron that was looking down at him with concerned eyes.

"Harry, are you okay?" he asked, and Harry looked down at himself. Yes, he was. It had just been another dream. "Hey, answer me", Ron said and Harry swallowed.

"I'm fine. It was just a dream", Harry breathed.

"Your dream?" Ron asked and Harry remembered that he'd told them about the nightmares.

He shook his head. "No."

"I..." Ron said, sounding shocked. "I didn't wake you, cus you seemed fine and I know you need all the sleep you can get. But then you started screaming and..."

Harry sat up and tried to swallow that lump in his throat. "I'm all right now."

Voldemort was trying to mess with his head, trying to turn him against them. He knew that and still the dream had seemed so real. Unsettlingly real. Harry hadn't been able to tell the dream Sirius apart from the real one, not until he had begun to wake up and time had run out. Then he had noticed it, the way his face was wrong somehow, like a painting of him rather than the real thing.

"Harry... I think you should do what Snape said. You could talk to me, or Hermione, but... You know, we probably don't get it like he does. I think you should tell him about your dreams. Maybe that'll help?" Ron sounded like he was just as much offering helpful advice as he was asking Harry what he should do.

"Ron, you should go get some sleep", Harry settled with and Ron nodded.

"Just don't keep it to yourself, Harry", he said, before he shut the door quietly.

Ron was smarter than he gave himself credit to be, so Harry decided he would follow his advice. It probably wouldn't help to keep it inside, Harry realised that. But if Harry was going to "share" - he even thought the word with a sort of despise - Snape had to do the same.

Some uneventful days passed, with just Harry trying to spend as much time as possible with Sirius. He wasn't going to let Voldemort screw this up too, he would not let that dream destroy Sirius for him. By pure stubborn resistance and spite Harry managed to push it out of his head. Harry of course didn't tell Sirius about it and he just seemed happy that Harry wanted to spend time with him.

Snape came to visit four days after he'd had that nightmare. Harry knew he was coming, he had heard that they were having a meeting that evening, and Snape never visited unless there was a meeting with the Order. They - meaning Sirius - understood, or maybe didn't even notice, if Snape snuck up to Harry's room after a meeting, but if he came just out of the blue it would be impossible to pretend like he wasn't coming just for Harry.

After waiting four days for Snape to knock on his door, Harry was a little surprised when he didn't knock and they just walked into each other in the hallway one day.

Harry didn't say anything, he just looked up at Snape until he opened his mouth.

"Harry", he finally said. "I was looking for you."

"Hey", Harry said and then they were quiet again, until Harry smiled and pulled Snape into his room.

He had gotten more things for his room, they had bought more clothes for him and Sirius and Lupin had given him some muggle books to read. It looked more lived in now, and Snape seemed to think so too. He asked before he sat down on the bed, and Harry smiled at that. It made him think that he actually belonged here, that he was entitled to say whether or not he could sit down, because it was _his _bed. He'd never felt like that with the Dark Lord.

"Of course you can", Harry said and sat down next to him, leaning his head against his shoulder.

And then he told him, and Snape listened. He told him all about the dream and the last few days, and how he felt about what Dumbledore had told them, and Snape ran his hands through Harry's trimmed hair and didn't say anything until he'd stopped talking.

"He wrecks everything. Even now, even when I'm away from him, he manages to-" Harry said, but stopped, because Snape understood.

"Albus is coming tonight", Snape said. "He'll explain about... everything, after the meeting. Do you want me to come?"

Harry wondered quietly. Did he? Would Snape think less of him because he was... tainted, infected with _him_? Maybe, but Harry wanted him there anyway.

"Yeah, I want you there", he said and looked up at Snape.

"I like it when you talk to me", Snape said after a short silence and Harry smiled.

"I like it when you talk to me too. I would like it", Harry changed and Snape's hand stopped moving through his hair.

"What would you like to hear?" he asked and Harry let his hand stroke Snape's palm as he talked.

"Do you have nightmares?"

"Yes", he said and gave a small nod. "Frequently. I used to drink a lot of Dreamless Sleep Potion, but eventually that stops working, you get immune."

"What are they about?" Harry asked, and looked up at Snape. Snape kept looking at his hands, where Harry was still running his fingers over the slightly hardened skin of his palm. His hands were always pleasantly chilly, always such a welcome contrast to everything else.

"They're about", he said and stopped himself, his fingers curling slightly. "Well, they're about death. And pain. Not unusual."

"Your death?" Harry asked and kept his eyes on Snape's face.

"Sometimes. Yours as well. Deaths I've caused", he said, his mouth moving slowly and precisely, like he was afraid that if he lost control of it, it would start saying things all by itself.

"Do you dream about the Dark Lord?" he asked and Snape nodded. Of course he did, Harry wouldn't be able to name a Death Eater who didn't.

Snape turned towards him, with just a blank look on his face, and Harry smiled at him before he kissed him softly.

"I love you", Harry said and nuzzled his neck, pressing his cheek to Snape's cheek.

"I love you too", he said and turned to kiss him again. "I love you, Harry."

The kissing was always needy and soft. It was all sorts of wonderful all at the same time. Snape loved him, and everything he did showed him that. He touched him like Harry was the most precious thing in the world and Harry loved him for it. He loved him for how he... loved Harry, as simple as that. And he loved him for just... He loved him for telling the truth, he loved him for the cool contrast that he was from all the lies.

Harry moved Snape's hand to his leg, and Snape uttered a kind of moan against Harry's neck.

"Wait", Harry mumbled and Snape pulled away and watched as Harry moved further up on the bed. "There. I don't want to fall off."

Snape looked at him with something that Harry could only describe as hunger, and then he leaned closer over Harry's body, putting a hand on each side of Harry's hips. Harry hadn't felt this needy and wanting for a very long time. It was like he was burning everywhere, and Snape's expression was only making things worse.

"You're perfect", he said and looked Harry up and down. "You're perfect, do you know that?"

Harry bit his lip as he watched Snape edge closer. Those cold fingers of his moved up under Harry's shirt and Harry sucked in a breath when his mouth followed, licking slowly, lapping at the smooth skin.

Perfect. Yeah, it was, really. Harry forgot. When Snape touched him, it was just the two of them. Nothing else, no pain, no memories, no nightmares. It was like it had finally gone quiet after having years and years of buzzing in the background. Snape was silence and darkness compared to a world of noise and flashing light.

Snape was ridiculously focused on what he was doing, making wet trails up Harry's stomach and torso, his dark hair hanging down on either side of his face, and Harry could only watch in fascination as he slid his shirt further and further up his chest and then tasted him, felt at his scars and blemishes.

Harry gasped when Snape closed his mouth over Harry's rock hard nipple and moved his tongue over it teasingly, again just lapping, just enough that it could be felt.

"Bite me", Harry breathed and Snape looked up for a second before complying, biting down just hard enough on the fragile skin and Harry almost cried at how good it was. It hurt, but just enough. Just enough to bring a sting, a sharpness, to everything, to the way his body almost buzzed with pleasure, how every part of him that was pressed against Snape seemed to hum in anticipation.

Snape kept worrying the bite with his tongue, sending little sparks of pain and thrill to Harry's groin.

"Please", Harry whispered and Snape pulled himself away from his task and let out a warm breath.

"What do you want?" he asked and Harry just bit his lip again, and Snape took that as an answer.

He let his hand slide down beneath Harry's underwear, finding Harry's erection, wrapping his fingers around it fondly, all while keeping his eyes on Harry. Harry closed his eyes, but he could still feel Snape watching him, his eyes burning in the dark.

He squeezed his fingers tight and Harry sucked in a breath. His mind felt completely empty, completely blank, his whole world was just the slight movement of Snape's hand, only the feel of his fingers against his skin.

He came quicker than he would have liked to, but it was inevitable. He bucked up into Snape's hand, felt the pressure building up and then, with a small whimper, he came, and all his muscles seemed to spasm at the same time as he emptied himself in his pants and in Snape's hand.

Snape milked him to his last drop and then softly removed his hand, wiping it on the bed.

He pressed a cool kiss to Harry's sweaty neck and then lay down next to Harry, hugging him tightly against him, ignoring the shirt that had ridden up around his waist and how his pants were half unbuttoned.

"Severus? Do you want me to...?" he asked, but Snape just shook his head.

"No. Some other time", he said quietly next to Harry's ear, and seemed happy just to lie there.

And they spent another half hour not thinking about anything but their little silent, happy cocoon, until Harry fell asleep and dreamt pleasantly empty dreams.

**A/N: **Yes, the hair scene was a bit emo, I know.

Randomly changing subject: I do like Harry/Sirius, but not in this one. Sirius is like his dad, and I thought Voldemort would take advantage of that, would try to force them apart.

Anyways, hope you liked it and please review. :)


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